University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


i 


POEMS, 


DRAMATIC    AND    MISCELLANEOUS* 


BY  MRS.  M.  WARREN, 


-'Tis  a  ftranger  fues, 


A  virgin  tragedy,  an  orphan  mufe.— —  POPK. 


PRINTED    AT    BOSTON, 
BY  I.  THOMAS   AND  E.  T.  ANDREWS, 

At  FAUST'S   STATUE,  No.  45,   NEWBURT   STRUT* 

MDCCXC, 


T  O 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON, 
PRESIDENT 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA., 

SIR, 

AMBITIOUS  to  avoid  both  the 
fiyle  and  the  fentiment  of  common  dedica 
tion,  more  frequently  the  incenfe  of  adu- 

lation,  than  the  refult   of  truth,  I  only  a  fie 

/ 
the  ilUiurious  Wafhington  to  permit  a  lady 

«• 

of  his  acquaintance  to  introduce  to  the 
public,  under  his  patronage,  a  final!  volume, 
written  as  the  amufement  of  folitude,  at  a 
period  when  every  aftive  member  of  fociety 
was  engaged,  either  in  the  field,  or  the  cab 
inet,  to  refi.fi  the  ftrong  hand  of  foreign 

dominatiors. 

THE 


IV  DEDICATION". 

THE  approbation  of  one  who  has  united 
all  hearts  in  the  field  of  conquefl,  in  the  lap 
of  peace,  and  at  the  head  of  the  government 
of  the  United  States,  mud,  for  a  time,  give 
countenance  to  a  writer,  who,  claiming  the 
honour  of  private  friendfhip,  hopes  for  this 
indulgence  :  But  it  mufl  be  a  bold  adven 
turer  in  the  paths  of  literature,  who  dreams 
of  fame,  in  any  degree  commenfurate  with 
the  duration  of  laurels  reaped  by  an  hero, 
who  has  led  the  armies  of  America  to  glory, 
victory  and  i  dence. 

THIS  may,  perhaps^be  an  improper  place 
to  make  many  obfervations  on^  re^y 
that  may   eventually  fhake  the   prc 
terns  of  European  defpotifm  j  yet  yoi 
(who  have  borne  fuch  a  diftinguifhed 
honourable  part   in   the   great  conflio 

the 


DEDICATION.  V 

the  nations,  wearied  with  (laughter,  gave 
truce  to  the  miferies  of  man)  will  permit 
me  to  obferve,  that,  connected  by  confan- 
guinity,  or  friendlhip,  with  many  of  the 
principal  characters  who  afferted  and  de 
fended  the  rights  of  an  injured  country,  the 
mind  has  been  naturally  led  to  contemplate 
the  magnitude,  both  of  the  caufes  and  the 

O  ' ' 

confequences,  of  a  convulfion  that  has  been 
felt  from  the  eaflern  borders  of  the  Atlantic, 
to  the  weftern  wilds. 

FEELING    much    for   the   diflreflfes    of 
America,,  in  the  dark  days  of  her  affliction,  ' 
a  faithful  record  has  been  kept,  of  the  moil 
material  tranfa&ions,  through  a  period  that 
has  engaged  the  attention,  both  of  the  phi- 
lofopher  and   the  politician  ;  and,  if  life  is 
fpared,  a  juft  trait  of  the  moft  diflinguiihed 
A  2  characters,. 


I 


VI  DEDICATION,, 

chara6lers>  either  for  valour,  virtue,  or  pat*, 
riotifm  ;  for  perfidy,  intrigue,  inconfiftency, 
or  ingratitude>,fhall  be  faithfully  tranfmitted 
to  pofterity,  by  one,  who  unites  in  the  gen 
eral  wiihx  that  you,,  fir,  may  continue  to 
prefide  in  the  midil  of  your  brethren,  until 
nature  afks  the  aid  of  retirement  and  re- 
pofe,  to  tranquilize  the  laft  ftages  of  hu 
man  life. 

With  every  fentiment    of   efteem    and 
friendfhipj  I  am,  refpe&ed  Sir, 
The  Prefident's 
Moil  obedient, 

And  very  humble  fervantr 
M.  WARREN, 

Plymouth,  Majjachufetts,  "\ 
March  ao;  1790.       J 

TABLE 


TABLE  of  CONTENTS. 


«7"*  Pase 

I.  -L  HE   Sack  of  Rome,  a-Tragedy.  13. 

II.  The  Ladies  of  Cqfltle,  a  Tragedy.  gj;< 

III.  To  Mrs.  Montague^  Author  of  "  Obfer- 

vations  on  the  Genius  and  Writings 

of  Shake/pear e."  I&I 

IV.  An  Eplftle-  H  Torrifmond.  183 
V.  A  Political Reverie.  r88 

VI.  To  Mr.  . — ,  alluding  to  a  Con± 

verfation  which  favoured  the  Opinion 
cf  FatalJfm. 

VII.   On  a  Survey  of  the  Heavens. 

VIII.   On  the  Death  of  Mrs.  S -5    who 

died  a  few  Days  after  her  Marriage.    200 

I X,   The  Squabble  of  the  Sea  Nymphs  ;  or  the 

Sacrifice  of  the  Tiifcararoe's.  202 

X.   To- a  Young  Lady,  on  Jhew':ng  an  excel 
lent  Piece  of  Painting^  much  faded.       206 

XL   To  the  Hon.  John  Wmthrop,  Efq.  208 

XII.   To  Fidelia,  long  abfent  on  public  Bvfinefs.  213 
XIII.  To  Honorta,  on  her  Journey  to  Dover.    216 

XIV.- 


viii>  CONTENTS. 

\ 

Pag« 

XIV.  Lines j  written  after  a  Tempefl.  219 

XV.  To  a   Young    Gentleman,   refuting  in 

France.  221 

XVI.  A  Poem  on  primitive  Simplicity,  228 

XVII.  On  the  Death  of  the  Hon.  John  Win- 

throp,  Ejq.  235 

XVIII.  Lines^  written  on  the  dmvverfary  of  the 

Death  of  Mr.  C IV .        240 

XIX.  To  a  Friend^  mourning  the  Death  of  a 

Father.  242 

XX.  The  Genius  of  America  weeping  the 
abjurd  Follies  of  tin  Day. — Oftoler 
10,  1778.  246 


TO     THE        P    U    B     L-I     C. 


-ALMOST  every  page  if  the  ftory  of  Rome,  exhibits  a 
tragedy,  'without  the  exaggeration  of  poetic  fiction  ;  yet  there 
are  few  of  its  interejling  fcenef,  that  have  not  furnijbed  the 
machinery  for  fame  dramatic  tuork.  But,  amldjl  the  innumer^ 
abh  writers,  that  almofl  every  age  has  prothxcd,  the  author 
tf  a  piece,  fiotu  offered  the  public,  does  net  recollect  to  barve 
fesn  the  rwea^nefs  and  cntelty  vf  Valentinian — the  characler 
cf  Petronius  Maximus — the  rcfetitment,  mdifcretkn  and  re* 
tfnge  of  Edoxia — (the  more  immediate  caufes  of  the  m<vajton 
tf  the  imperial  dfy,  by  t-he  Vandals )~clsQfen  for  thefubjetf  &j" 
ibeaitical  inftmflion. 

The  fuller/Ion  of  the  ivejlern  empire ',  and  the  Sack  of  the 

dty  of  Rome,   by  Genferic,  form  an  era  in  the  reevolution  cf 

1  of  airs,  that  ftrikes  the  mind  <wtih  peculiar fokmmty  ; 

.-,  at  i 'la •/  period,  the  chara&cr  of  man  was  funk  to  the 

ft  age  of  cit  Debilitated  by  the  babits  of  every 

of  luxury,  a  fattgferies  of  tragical  events,  and  the  <on- 

ilnual  apprcbwfwt  of  profcrtpti&nj   or  death  ,  the pcivers  ef 

the 


the  mind  were,  at  the  fame  time,  ebfcured  ly  thefuperftittsnt 
6f<weak,  uninformed  chriftiani,  blended  nvith  the  barb  anfw- 
and  ignorance  of  the  darker  ages, 

Thus  an  Impenetrable  cloud  *wa$  tbrsivn  ever  the  religious 
and  political  injlitutions,  both  of  the  Roman  and  the  Gothic 
<ivorld;  which  hafaned  on  the  deJlrucJian  of  the  former,  •with- 
tut  exhibiting  any  thing  more  honourable  to  the  genius  and  vir 
tue  of  mankind  ',  in  the  eftabUJbrnent  of  the  latter  ;  nor  have 
more  enlightened  and  polffled  age's  been  taugbl,  by  their  ex 
amples  ',  to  jjjun  the  luxurious  ^viceSj  or  the  abfurd  fyftems  of 
policy,  *wbicb  bai<e  frequently  corrupted,  dijirafted,  and  ru 
ined  the  befl  ccnfituted  republic  ;  as  ivell  as  divided  and 
overturned  the  Jlrong  fabric  of  monarchi 


In  tracing  tic  rife,  the  cbaratfer,  the  rewJurions,  and  ijae 
fall  of  tie  moft  politic  and  brave,  tie  mojl  infoleni  and  felfjk 
people  -,  'tie  world  e<ver  exhibited,  the  hero  and  the  moraliji  may 
find  the  mcft  fublime  examples  of  valour  and  virtue  ;  and  tbt 
pbihfopber  the  moft  humiliating  lejjbns  to  the  pride  of  man,  in 
ihe  turpitude  tffome  of  their  capital  characJers  :  While  the 
dominions  of  that  .once  celebrated  nation  }  their  baugh* 

&: 


iy  ufurpations  and  fplendid  crimes,  have  for  ages  furnijhed 
the  hijlorian  and  the  poet  with  a  field  of  /peculation,  adapted 
to  bis  own  peculiar  talents.  But  if  the  'writer  of  the  Sack  of 
Rome  has  niijlaken  her  s.  Jit  wtll,  doubtlefs,  be  forgiven,  as 
there  have  been  inftances^of  men  of  the  bejl  abilities  who  have 
fallen  into  the  fame  error. 

There  is  but  little  mixture  of  fable  in  the  narration,  and,  I 
hope,  a  juft  purity  of  jlile  has  been  obferved,  "while  the  writer 
has  aimed  at  moral  improvement,  by  an  exhibition  of  the  tu 
mult  and  mifery  into  which  mankind  are  often  plunged  by  an 
unwarrantable  indulgence  of  the  difcordant  pajjions  of  the  hum 
man  mind. 

V 

Theatrical  amufements  may,fometimes,  have  been  profthuted 
to  the  purpofes  of  <vice  j  yet,  in  an  age  oftafle  and  refinement^ 
leffbns  of  morality,  and  the  conferences  of  deviation,  may  per 
haps,  be  as fuccefsfully  enforced  from  theftage,  as  by  modes  of 
injlrucliort',  left  cenfured  by  the  fevere ',  while,  at  the  fame 
time,  the  exhibition  of  great  hiftorical  events,  opens  a  field  cf 
contemplation  tit  tks  refafting  and  pbilofophic  mind. 

Iff 


My  firjl  ivi/h  is  to  tbroTjaamitetntolbefcaleofevii'lue+ 
*nd  my  highejl  ambition  to  meet  the  approbation  of  the  judi~ 
tious  and  ivorthy  : — In  the  one,  I  am  gratified  from  the  re- 
Jleflions  of  my  o'wn  heart  ;  for  the  othert  I  wait  ivitb  dijfi- 
dftice  the  dete rminattcns  oj  the  candid  public. 

M.  W. 


ERRATA.—  The  reader  is-requefled  to  notice  the  following  rf7- 
terations  and  errors  cftbefrefs,  viz. 
Page  39,  line  4  from  top,  tor  fiff>trtst  read  fpeflres* 

46  .......  -5  from  bottom,  for  Hermannic,  read  JJermannc. 

56—  —7  from  bottom,  for  gbcft,  read  Jbade, 

67—  P—  —  4  from  top,  for  bm  tube  (bunders  in  tke  Jkitst  real 

ail  the  deities  of  Rome* 
96         '    *3  from  top,  for  an,  read  a* 


no   .....  3  from  bottom,  forjignet, 
1  57  .  i  -        6  from  bottom,  for  amour  ,  read  armour. 
loi—  —  —  15  from  top,  fov  for  probity  y  read  *#y  probity* 
203——  —7  from  top,  for  Titans,  read  Titans. 
aia—  —-  13  from  top,  for  tiroivt  read  throws* 


THE 


THE 


SACK  of  ROME, 


TRAGEDY, 


I     V     E        ACTS. 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS. 

MEN. 

VALENTINIAN—  Emperor  of  Rome. 
HERACLIUS  —  -favourite  Eunuch  to  Valentinian. 
PETRONIUS  MAXIMUS--*  noble.  Citizen. 
./ETIUS  —  Commander  of  the  Roman  Troops. 
•  GAUDENTIUS—  Son  to  JEtlus>  betrothed  to  Eudocia. 
—Biflop  of  Rome. 


.-GENSERJC  —  King  of  the  Vandahy  rt:giing  in  Carthage, 
-HUNNERIC—  Sw  to  Genferic. 
TRAULISTA—  a  barbarian  Prince. 

W  O  M  E  N. 

.  EDOXI  A  —  Emprefs  of  Rome. 

EUDOCIA—  T 

>•  Daughters  of  Valentiman, 
PLACIDIA—  / 

SENATORS,  SOLDIERS,  SERVANTS,  -&Ci  &c.    ; 


THE 


S  A  C  K   of   R  O  M  E. 


ACT 

^G        E-       N 

A  Camp  near 


I, 


and  GAUDENTIUS; 


A 


SOLEMN  ftillnefs  reigns  throughout  the  camp  j 
The  hoftile  found  of  martial  mufick's  hufh'd  j 
A  truce  agreed,  the  proud  Attila  gives, 
Perhaps,  aihort  liv'd  peace  to  bleeding  Rome  j 
But  nations  pouring  from  their  frozen  dens,- 
Rough,  naked  boors,  from  every  northern  wild, 
Untutor'd,  or  by  nature,  or  by  art, 
With  fcarce  a  trait  that  fpeaks  the  fpecies  man, 
Except  the  femblance  of  the  human  form, 
Muft  be  the  chofen  fcourge,  by  heaven  de/lgn'd, 
To  chaften  Rome  for  that  tyrannick  fway 
Ufurp'd  and  ftretch'd  o'er  all  her  wide  domain, 
And  proudly  held  by  her  reinorfdefs  fword  >, 

Her 


jrf  THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

Her  Infolence,,  her  fhibbornnefs  of  foul, 
That  trod  down  nations,  trampled  on  the  necks. 
Of  mighty  kings,  and  taught  her  weaker  foes 
To  fear  alike  her  fenators  and  gods. 
GAUDENTIUS. 

Though  from  each  quarter  of  the  peopled  glebe 
Some  hoflile  foe,  or  new  invader  rife, 
Imperial  Rome  muft  ever  awe  the  world. 


With  hideous  mouts  the  northern  hords  retired 
O'er  the  bleak  mounts  to  Sogdiana's  wilds  ; 
But  fierce  Attila  look'd  indignant  back 
On  weakened  Rome,  by  luxury  undone  ; 
Flufh'd  with  fuccefs,  by  vulgar  kings  ador^J, 
Who  watch  his  nod  and  tremble  at  his  frown, 
The  Scythian  favage  left  the  Latian  more, 
Like  fome  wild  beaft  jufl  gorg'd  with  human  blood> 
Full  glutted  with  his  prey,  to  breathe  awhile 
Jn  his  ferocious  den— to  whet  his  tafte 
For  new  refreshing  hecatombs  of  blood. 

GAUDENTIUS. 

Extreme  difirefs  unites  the  firm  and  brave  ; 
True  virtue  mie;ht  each  obftacle  furmount ; 
Rome,  like  a  phenix,  from  her  fmoking  towns, 
DifTolving  columns,  cities  wrapt  in  flames, 
Might  yet  emerge  and  more  illuftrious  fhine, 
If  party  rage  and  luxury  mould  ceafe, 
And  peace  give  time  to  make  a  juft  reform 
Through  each  corrupted  channel  of  the  law  j 
Or  if  fimplicity  again  returns, 
And  government  more  energy  afTumes, 
Her  ancient  codes  reftor'd  on  equal  terms, 
She  yet  might  reign  from  Danube  to  the  Po. 

There's 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME.  17 

JEnus. 

There's  little  hope  from  fuch  a  noble  fource ; 
So  chang'd  her  manners,  fo  debas'd  the  mind 
By  faction',  pride,  intemperance  and  luft. 
Loft  in  inglorious  eafe,  all  valour  melts 
Beneath  incrufted  roofs,  embofs'd  with  gold, 
Egyptian  pearls  and  emeralds  of  the  Eaf.; 
The  fvvord  alone  is  all  that  Rome  can  boaft 
That  bears  affinity  to  former  fame  ;, 
Yet  fee  the  foiis  of  Romulus  difmay'd, . 
The  trembling. youth  of  Italy  alarm'd 
Whene'er  the  trumpet  fummons  to  the  field. 
Before  the  vernal  equinox  returns 
To  cheer  the  Hetrurian  plains,  war  wakes  anew  j 
I  faw  the  tyger  gnafn  his  hungry  teeth 
When  fair  Honoria's  ample  dower  was  nam'd, 
On  wlwch  the  iavage  ftipulated  peace  ; 
This  brings  him  back  to  claim  his  royal  bride.- 
GAUDENTIUS. 

But  while  tranfported  with  the  youthful  charms 
Of  beauteous  Elda — taken  to  his  bed  ; 
Amidft  barbarick  pomp — he  may  forget 
Both  enmity  and  gold  and  his  Honoria, 
Till  Rome's  ppepar'd  to  meet  him  in  the  field.    [Exeunt. 


S      C     E      N     E          II. 

JETIUS— LEO— GAUDENTIUS, 

LEO, 


I 


COME  my  lord  with  tidings  on  my  tongue, 

.&LTIUS, 
what  new  foe  has  Rome  ?  I  am  prepared, 

Lio* 


iS  THE  SACK  OF  ROME". 

LEO. 

I  come  to  hall  the  valiant  friend  of  Rome, 
Whofe  arm  and  prowefs  are  her  beft  fupport,, 
With  the  glad  news  of  fierce  Attila's  death. 

JErivs. 
How  did  the  monfter  fall  ? 

LEO. 

Hot  from  the  riot  of  a  barbarous  feaft  ; 
Sent  fvviftly  down  to  Pluto's  gloomy  fhade, 
By  lewd  debauch  and  great  excefs  of  joy 
That  his  rough  arm  had  humbled  haughty  Rome* 


Humbled  indeed  !  the  world's  proud  miftrefs 
Trembles  at  th'  approach  of  Suevick  valour  ; 
The  harden'd  lance  dip'd  in  the  Wolga's  ftream  ; 
Hurl'd  in  the  face  of  her  degenerate  Ions  j 
They  dart  appall  'd  e'en  at  a  diftant  foe  ; 
The  next  invader  feals  Rome's  heavy  doom. 

LEO. 

Though  weakened  Rome  by  furious  factions  torn, 
ImbitterM  by  decline,  finks  deep  in  vice  — 
Yet,  was  the  empire  held  in  bolder  hands 
The  fierce  barbarick  rage  might  ftill  be  check'd  ; 
Within  Liguria  all  would  be  fecure, 
And  fav'd  from  pillage  all  the  Latian  dates  ; 
Then  let  the  world  beyond  the  towering  Alps 
Be  f^ill  poffefTd  by  Goth,  or  Vandal  tribes, 
Ravag'd  by  wolves,  or  yet  more  favage  Huns. 


Where  is  the  emperor  ?  Does  he  not  awake 
"From  his  foft  Numbering  lethargy  of  foul  ? 

LEO 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

LEO. 

Supfhety  funk  in  dreams  of  wanton  blifs, 
Ignoble  pleafures  of  a  fplendid  court, 
Or  peace,  or  war,  or  truce,  the  fame  to  him. 
JE-rius. 

Yet,  when  he  heard  of  the  barbarian's  death, 
Did  he  not  roufe,  nor  dread  the  ill  omen'd  birds 
That  late  have  brooded  o'er  the  capitol, 
And  augur*  d  evils  round  the  city  walls, 
That  the  twelve  centuries  were  near  complete^ 
Since  Romulus  the  founder  of  the  ftate 
Had  prophefied  the  meafure  of  her  guilt 
Would  tempt  the  deftinies  in  wrath  to  rife 
And  make  the  empire  from  its  ancient  bafe  ? 
LEO. 

The  fair  Ardelia  fills  the  monarch's  heart  i 
He  fecret  fighs  for  Maximus's  wife. 


Ardelia  !  —  the  good  —  the  chalk  Ardelia  — 
The  firft  and  faireft  matron  left  in  Rome  ! 

LEO. 

To  triumph  over  her  fuperiour  charms, 
He  cog'd  the  dye  at  Maximus's  coft  : 
Long  praftis'd  in  the  tercerarian  art, 
Petronius  is  play'd  a  double  game  ; 
The  die  was  thrown  while  fortune  turn'd  the  wheel 
That  makes  him.wretched  as  he  has  been  bkfs'd. 


"Mongft  the  long  lift  of  celebrated  names, 
Matrons  of  ancient  or  of  modern  fame,    ^ 
None  boafts  a  fairer  claim  to  virtue's  palm 
Than  the  difcreet,  the  excellent  Ardelia  j 
Nor  can  /he  forfeit  by  a  fhameful  fall 


*©  THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

That  modefty,  and  grace,  and  decent  pride, 
That  dignifies,  nor  lefs  adorns,  the  fex; 

LEO. 

Yet  heavenly  virtue,  or  angelicfc  worth* 
May  fall  the  victim  of  a  wanton  wifli, 
When  power  lends  its  iron  hand  to  guilt. 

M-TIUS. 
Petronius  ador'd  Ardelia's  charms. 

LEO. 

As  well  he  ought — though  innocent  as  fair, 
Pity's  too  weak  her  anguifli  to  exprefs — 
Language  too  poor  to  fpeak  one  half  her  griefs  : 
But  Maximus  returns — Ah,  haplefs  man  ! 
I  would  not  fee  him  till  he  knows  his  fate, 
And  time  lias  calm'd  the  tumults  of  his  foul. 

[Exfunf. 


H 


SCENE      III. 

I  U  S— M  A  X  I  M  U  S, 

JETIUS'.. 


.AH  !  Maximus — 
Art  thou  the  laft  to  hail  thy  friend's  fuccefs  ? 
Or  has  long  abfence  blotted  friend/hip  out  ? 

MAXIMUS. 
Forgive  me,  ^Etius — 
I  efteem  thy  virtues — nor  envy  thee 
The  laurels  thou  haft  won  :  Abfence,  nor  time,. 
Can  e'er  obliterate  that  love,  that  friend/hip, 
Merit  makes  thy  own,  and  worth  commands  : 

Give 


THE  SACK  OF  ROIftE;  zs 

Give  rae  thy  hand  —  thou  know  'ft  my  heart  is  thine, 
Nor  can  I  more  until  \ve  meet  again. 

JEnus. 
What  means  this  hafte  ?  Why  that  difhirbed  brow  ? 

MAXIMUS. 

Return'd  this  moment  from  the  Aquilean  camp 
Where  I've  been  fent  with  fuch  impetuous  fpeed, 
So  much  unlike  the  flownefs  of  the  emperor, 
I  fcarce  believe  that  he  could  mean  me  fair. 


What  caufe  is  there  for  doubt  ?  or  why  fufpefl  ? 
MAXIMUS. 

I  think  fome  latent  mifchief  lies  concealed 
Beneath  the  vizard  of  a  fair  pretence  ; 
My  heart  ill  brook'd  the  errand  of  the  day, 
Yet  I  obey'd  —  though  aftrange  horror  feiz'd 
My  gloomy  mind  —  and  (hook  my  frame 
As  if  the  moment  murder'd  all  my  joys. 

.'..._  JE.T1US. 

But  what  excites  diftruft  ? 

MAXIMUS. 

Not  like  a  child  am  I  about  to  weave 
In  piteous  accents  a  fad  tale  of  woe  : 
But  if  I'm  bubbled  by  a  mean  device, 
No  lingering  vengeance  mall  repair  my  wrongs, 


What  mean  thefe  fears  ?  this  agony  of  doubt  ? 

MAXIMUS. 

Thou  art  a  gen'rous  and  a  valiant  friend  : 
I'll  not  conceal  the  anguifh  of  my  foul, 
Nor  yet  the  fecret  worm  that  gnaws  my  heart, 
Myfelf  forgot  in  an  ignoble  vice, 

A  vico 


s*  THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

A  vice  below  the  dignity  of  man, 
Without  temptation  but  in  avarice,, 
A  blacker  paftion  ftill—  fate  threw  the  die, 
Or  by  fuperiour  fkill  the  emperor  won 
My  beauteous  grottos  —  my  paternal  groves— 
My  pleafant  villas  —  and,  meandering  ftreams  — 
The  fvveet  cafcades  that  gurgled  o'er  the  dales  — 
The  nob?e  bufts  that  inark'd  th*  Anician  name— 
My  poplar  walks  —  and  my  Ardelia's  bovver  — 
(Thofe  foft  retreats  of  innocence  and  love) 
And  thus  for  once  made  Maximns  a  flave. 
But  ah  f  he  gave  a  treacherous  releafe'^ 
He  only  afk'd  the  fignet  from  my  hand 
To  feal  a  promife  that  I'd  reach  the  camp 
Where  Accimer  commands  before  the  eve  ; 
4  But  'twas  a  poor,  a  frivolous  pretence  ; 
Yet  did  J  not  fufpect  a  bafe  defign, 
Till  I  received,  without  a  fignature,  , 
In  characters  familiar  to  my^eycy. 
A  fentence  like  a  thunderbolt  from  Jove. 
I  kifs'd  the  hand  —  in  raptures  broke  the  feal— 
"  Read  —  tremble  —  and  defpair  —  adieu,  Petronius!'r 
Was  all  the  page  —  the  folemn  page,  contain'd  j 
And  now  I  hafte  to  find  my  lov'd  Ardelia  j 
If  /he's  not  wrong'd,  Petronius  Maximus 
May  ftill  be  blefs'd. 


Though  Valentinian  doats  on  beauty's  charms, 
Ardelia  muft  be  fafe  :  True  virtue  checks 
A  bold  licentious  wifh,  and  guards  the  fair  j 
He  durft  not  drag  an  angel  to  his  bed. 

MAXIMUS. 

As  truth  and  virtue  dignifi'd  my  blifs, 
The  gods  alone  who  judge  of  fpotkfs  worthy 

Muft 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME.  23 

Muft  clear  her  fame,  and  vindicate  my  own-; 
Or  let  their  vengeance  pour  in  dreadful  peais 
Their  heated  bolts — till  chofen  curfes  fall, 
In  blafts  diftinguifh'd,  on  the  emperor's  head. 

[Exeunt. 


SCENE        IV. 

^ETIUS— GAUDENTIU.S— HERACLIUS. 


.ERA.CLIUS  !— Say,   \vhat    has  brought    thee 
hither  ? 

HERACLIUS. 

The  emperor's  command — he,  on  the  tide 
Of  pleafure  and  fuccefs,  congratulates, 
Both  on  the  peace,  and  on  Attila's  death, 
The  brave  G-audentius,  and  his  noble  fire  ; 
He  greets  with  thanks,  his  hardy,  veteran  friends, 
For  valour,  faith,  and  every  great  exploit 
Their  arms  atchiev'd  in  tjie  rough  field  of  Mars 
When  jflitius  finds  it  fafe  to  leave  the  camp, 
It  is  his  will  ye  both  repair  to  Rome, 
To  reft  awhile  from  toilfome  fcenes  of  war, 
And  tafte  the  pleafures  of  the  imperial  court. 

JEnus. 

We  (hall  obey — and  ere  tomorrow's  dawn, 
I  reach  the  city  and  falute  my  prince. 
But  whence  that  figh,  my  fon  ?   Art  thou  afraid  (to  Gaud.) 
To  venture  on  the  threshold  of  a  court, 

it  melt  down  thy  valour  or  thy  fame  ? 

Or 


34  THE  SACK  OF  ROML. 

Or  does  foft  hope  prefent  th'  hymenial  torch, 
Rekindle  in  thy  breaft  a  lover's  flame,  \ 

And  bring  the  fair  Eudocia  to  thine  eye  ? 
Thy  valour  claims  her  from  the  emperor's  hand, 
Nor  will  he  longer  now  protract  his  vow. 

GAUDENTIUS. 

Nor  fhali  he — Eudocia  is  my  wife — 
A  foldier's  honour  refts  upon  his  fword, 
And  mine  fhall  claim  its  right. 

HERACLIUS. 

He  gives  Eudocia  to  thy  longing  arms, 
And  bids  thee  hafle  to  folemnize  thy  love, 
In  feflal  joys  and  holy  nuptial  rites. 
GAUDENTIUS. 

Thou  art  the  harbinger  of  blifs  indeed  ; 
Command  my  gratitude,  it  mall  be  thine  : 
I'll  haften  on,  and  meet  tliee  in  the  forum  ; 
If  yet  thou  haft  one  wiih  ungratified, 
Command  my  aid — it  fhall  enfure  fuccefs, 
Complete  thy  fortune,  and  fill  up  thy  hopes. 

HERACLIUS. 

The  princefs  waits  impatiently  to  hear 
The  happy  moment  of  her  lord's  return. 

[Exit  HERACLIUSc 

/ETIUS. 

There's  not  a  prince  in  Valentinian's  court 
Has  ferv'd  with  more  fidelity  and  zea!  ; 
Nor  does  he  flight  the  fervices  of  ^Etius, 
But  as  a  prince  he  bounteoufly  rewards. 
My  fon  !  the  braveft,  moft  deferving  youth 
That  e'er  paternal  love  clafp'd  to  his  breaft. 
He  crowns  thy  valour  with  the  choiccft  gift 
A  lover  ever  wifh'd.  or  hero  claimed. 

Yet 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME, 

Yet  while  my  heart  anticipates  thy  blifs, 
Thou  muft  remember  that  thou  liv'ft  for  Rome: 
Let  not  ambition,  avarice,  or  love, 
Contaminate  thy  patriotick  worth  : 
And  as  my  fvvord  has  fov'd  the  commonwealth 
Drove  back  her  foes,  and  given  peace  to  Rome, 
Let  thine  example  teach  her  to  be  free. 

GAUDENTIUS. 

Infpir'd  by  thee,  by  glory,  and  by  fame. 
No  deed  of  mine  fhall  ever  ftain  thy  name. 

[Exeunt, 


C  ACT 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

ACT          II. 
SCENE  I. 

'Palace  C/VA-LENTINIAN. 
Enter  VALENTINIAN  and  HERACLIUS. 

VALENTINIAN. 


H 


.AST  thou  feen  Maximus  ? — Is  he  return 'd  ? 
*Tis  vvhifper'd  that  he's  now  about  the  court  : 
1  order'd  Ricemar  to  urge  his  fhiy 
To  try  his  valour  in  the  feats  of  war, 
Till  I  found  means  to  footh  Ardelia's  grief, 
Or  reconcil'd  her  to  my  ardent  love  : 
Yet  I  fufpecl:  my  will  is  difobey'd. 
HERACLIUS. 

I,  through  the  Campus  Martius,  faw  him  paf^ 
Sullen  and  fierce  as  is  the  baited  bull, 
Whetted  for  blood  and  roaring  for  his  prey, 
When  rufliing  on  the  viftim  of  his  rage. 

VALENTINIAN. 

He  furely  meditates  fome  great  revenge. 
lie  has  a  bold,  affuming,  haughty  foul— 
A  daring  pride  that  fpurns  the  lead  affront — 
I  fear  him  more  than  /Etius. 

HEXACLIUS. 

But  j^Etius  is  the  idol  of  the  army, 
And  at  his  beck — the  young  barbarian  princes. 
Haughty  and  brave,  he  brooks  not  thy  delay  ; 
Impatient  for  the  promife  made  Gaudentius, 
Sighs  for  a  union  with  the  fair  Eudocia. 

A  fon 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

A  fon  fo  near — a  fceptre  in  his  eye, 
May  empire  give  to  his  afpiring  father. 

VALENTIN  i  AN/ 

Go  lead  him  hither  with  his  favour'd  fon, 
My  hand  mall  rid  me  from  all  fear  from  them  : 
Once  in  the  palace,  and  the  work  is  done  : 
I'll  fave  my  daughter  for  a  nobler  union. 
But  find  out  Maximus — 'tis  him  I  dread  j 
A  man  thus  injur'd  never  can  forgive. 

HERACLIUS. 

He  lov'd  Ardelia  with  the  pureft  flame  j 
Indeed  ihe  was,  for  innocence  and  truth, 
For  elegance,  true  dignity,  and  grace, 
The  faireft  fample  of  that  ancient  worth 
Th'  illuftrious  matrons  boafted  to  the  world 
When  Rome  was  fam'd  for  every  glorious  deed. 
But  fhe's  no  more  ! 

VALENTINIAN. 
Hah  !  flave,  forbear — 

Mean 'it  thou  to  try  my  love,  or  wake  my  fears  > 
Say  thou  at  once-— fufpenfe  T  ne'er  could  bear. 

HERACLIUS. 

Defpair,  refentment,  agonizing  grief, 
This  morn  have  clos'd  the  period  of  a  life 
Too  pure  and  fpotlefs  for. the  Roman  world. 

VALENTINIAN. 

Then  I'm  undone  forever — double  the  guards  ; 
Go  find  Petronius  out — fuffer  not  him, 
Nor  /Etius,  to  fee  another  fun  : 
To  make  the  work  complete,  bring  ^Etius  hither  ; 
My  fword  is  ready  for  a  traitor's  blood, 
Nor  dare  another  arm  attempt  his  dearh. 

[Exit  HERACLIUS. 
Down 


*$  THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

Down  coward  confcience,  nor  difturb  a  prince* 
My  recent  crime  haunts  all  my  fleeplefs  nights  ;. 
Yet,  (hall  I  fill  the  meafure  of  my  guilt 
And  turn  aflTafrm  ? — Am  I  fo  loft,  as  thus 
To  (tain  my  hand  with  the  Patrician  blood — 
Pollute  my  court — difgrace  the  Roman  name  ? 
No,  that  can't  be — her  infamy's  complete, 
And  no  new  crime  is  wanting  in  the  lift 
To  ftigmatize,  and  blaft  her  ancient  fame- 
In  this  apartment,  now  my  gloomy  cell, 
Where  I  have  feen  Ardelia  drown 'd  in  tears, 
And  almoft  dying  with  indignant  grief, 
All  other  crimes  are  light — let  ^)tius  die. 
Enter  EDOXIA. 

But  hah  ! — here  comes  my  torment — 
My  other  confcienee — to  kill  me  with  a  look — 
The  fair — the  excellent — the  wrong'd  Edoxia  j 
Her  prefence  freezes  all  my  powers  of  fpeech  ; 
(  dare  not  lift  my  eye  to  meet  her  frown — 
1  Yn  all  confufion — guilt — perdition — death. 

[Retiring  hafiilj* 
1  EDOXIA. 

Oh  !  fly  me  not,  my  fovereign — 
I  only  come  to  warn  my  much  lov'd  lord, 
A  lowering  ftorm  may  burft  upon  his  head. 
VALENTINIAN. 

I  fear  no  ftorms  but  from  an  injur'd  wife  ; 
The  (harp  inveftives  of  neglected  beauty. 

EDOXIA. 

My  wrongs  I  here  forgive — thy  fafety  now 
Is  all  I  have  to  wifh — my  foul  is  all  alarm. 
VALFNTINIAN. 

What  idle  terror  has  afTail'd  thy  brain  ; 

Or 


1 

THE  SACK  OF  ROME.  29 

Or  what  new  rupture  threatens  empire  next  ? 
EDOXIA. 

No  foreign  foe  awakes  my  anxious  thought  j 
The  faithful  ^tius  commands  the  legions, 
And  guards  the  ports  from  Tyber  to  the  Rhine, 
From  bold  inroads  and  fierce  barbarick  foes. 
VALSNTINIAN. 

A  woman,  weaken'd  by  a  fenfe  of  wrongs^ 
With  a  creative  fancy,  fpreads  contagion, 
If  flie  names  her  fears — yet  tell  the  caufe, 
If  any  caufe  thou  haft,  thus  to  alarm 
And  agitate  my  mind. 

EDOXIA. 

Petronius  Maximus. 

VALENTINIAN, 

What  of  Petronius  ? 

EDOXIA. 

'Tis  him  I  fear  : — As  from  the  Circus> 
Late  this  morn  I  came,  he  enter'd — 
Rage  in  his  eye — unheeding  what  he  faw  j 
Loft  in  deep  thought,  and  wrap'd  in  dark  intrigue, 
He  onward  mov'd,  with  flow  and  folemn  fteps— 
A  dark,  fix'd  brow,  and  gefture  of  defpair — 
He  walk'd,and  ftop'd,  and  trod,  and  ftamp'd  the  ground, 
And  gnam'd  his  teeth,  and  clench'd  his  nervous  palm, 
Then  fpread  it  on  his  breaft  and  prefs'd  it  hard, 
As  if  afraid  his  heart  would  bnrft  its  bounds- 
Then  fob'd  a  lowly  figh — alas  !  Ardelia  ! 

And,  as  the  fhadow  moves  befide  the  man? 
His  (teps  were  meafur'd  by  an  Alan  prince  ; 
But  neither  heeded  all  the  fports  of  Rome. 
Forgive  my  lord,  my  foft  officious  care 
To  guard  thy  peace  from  each  domejftick  foe. 

C  2.  .  VALENTINJAN, 


5o  THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

VALENTINIAN. 

Thou  beft  of  women  !  how  fhall  I  atone 
For  half  the  wrongs  my  faithlefs  heart  has  done 
To  beauty  blended  with  fuperiour  worth  ? 
EDOXIA. 

Ill  boding  dreams  and  gloomy  apparitions—- 
Frefli  bleeding  ghufts,  and  fhades  of darkeft  hue, 
Haunt  all  my  fl umbers— fome  deep  deflgn, 
Of  terrible  import,  in  Maximus  I  faw  ; 
Wafte  not  a  moment — oh  !    fecure  thyfelf, 
And  when  we  meet  again,  we'll  talk  of  love.       [Exeunt, 


SCENE      IL 

VALENTINIAN  and  HERACLIUS. 

HERACLIUS. 


rS  attends  thy  will,  as  does  his  fon — 
With  them  Beotius,  prefect  of  the  city. 

VALENTINIAN. 

Let  only  ^Etius  enter — tell  him 
The  bufinefs  is  of  fuch  import — 
No  other  ear  muft  witnefs— thou  wilt  thyfelf 
Take  care  of  both  Beotius  and  Gaudentius. 

HERACLIUS. 

I  will  my  lord — he  and  his  noble  friend 
May  fight  Attila  in  the  fhades  below, 
If  that  fierce  warrior  dill  remembers  Rome. 

VALENTINIAN. 

No  vulgar  fouls  we'll  fend  the  gods  this  day  ; 
Petroniu-s  next,  and  ihen  defy  the  world. 

[£*// HB&A.C  LOTS. 
My 


THE  SACK  OF  ROMS. 

My  arm  be  ftrong — away  with  confcious  qualms— 
Hi  a  is  a  life  worthy  of  Cellar's  fword  : : 
'Tis  true  I  but  fufpeft  his  cover'd  treafon  ; 
Yet,  ^Etius  muft  die — as  (hall  Gaudentius. 


SCENE      III. 
EUHOCI  A  and  PL  AC  I  D  I  A, 

EUDOCIA. 


o, 


H  !  my  Placid i  a, 
The  good,  the  generous  .^Etins  is  dead, 
And  murder'd  by  the  hand  of  Valentinian'. 

PLACIDIA. 
Impoflible  ! — 'tis  but   the  tale  of  malice,  whifper'd 

round, 
By  fonie  vile  foe  to  Valentinian's  houfe, 

EUDOCIA. 
'Tis  done, 

And  hell  itfelf  records  the  dreadful  deed- 

PLACIDIA. 

My  father  ne'er  could  (lain  the  imperial  throne. 
By  fuch  a  crime  as  this  ! 

What  !  like  the  madraan  of  old. Philip's  race. 
Plunge  his  drawn  dagger  in  the  faithful  breaft 
Of  fuch  a  friend  as  ^Etius  ? 

EUDOCIA 
He  hasj 

And  my  Gandentius  juft  efcap'd  the  blow 
Heraclius  defign'd,  by  fpeedy  flight, 
And  in  his  (lead  Beotius  was  flain. 

PLACIDIA, 


3*  THE  SACK  OF  ROME, 

PLACIDIA, 

Where  is  the  virtuous  youth  ? — and  where  his  friends 

ElJDOCIA. 

He  pafs'd  the  guards,  Traulifta  by  his  fide, 
And,  through  the  weftern  gate,  they,  fwift  as  lightning-, 
Hafted  to  Liguria — though  much  he  lov'd, 
He'll  ne'er  forgive  the  murd'rer  of  his  fire  j 
He  has  a  filial  heart  and  valiant  arm, 
And  nature's  inftinft  wakes  a  tender  ftrife- 
The  genuine  virtues  of  his  youthful  heart, 
Cherifh'd  by  reafon — ripen 'd  to  fublmie, 
Nurs'd  up  by  honour,  gratitude  and  worth, 
Call  loud  for  vengeance  o'er  his  father's  tomb. 
PLACIDIA. 

Alas !  the  gath'ring  ftorm — what  chofen  blafts, 
Heaven's  vengeance  next  pours  down,  is  with  the  gods, 

EuDOClA. 

The  death  of  ^Etius  augurs  ill  to  Rome  ; 
His  foul,  too  firm  to  fear,  or  Goths,  or  Huns  j 
Too  great  to  be  corrupted,  or  deceiv'd, 
Sooth'd  their  rough  paflions,  balanc'd  their  ambition  ; 
They  lov'd,  they  fear'd,  and  will  avenge  his  death. 

PLACIDIA. 

When  jealoufy's  at  war  with  wild  ambition, 
And  reafon  quits  the  helm  amid  the  ftorm, 
The  furious  hurricane  of  paflion  fwells 
Till  ev'ry  fail  hurls  on  to  fure  perdition. 

EUDOCIA. 

Ah  !  my  Gaudentius — could  Eudocia's  blood 
Wafh  <-if  the  guilt  contracted  by  her  (ire, 
Thefe  veins  I'd  ope,  and  warm  libations  pour 
Down  at  thy  feet,  to  make  his  daughter 

Worthy 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

Worthy  of  thy  love^— love  did  I  fay  ? — no- 
He  muft  forever  hate — defpife— deteft — 
And  curfe  the  name  of  Caefar's  blafted  race, 
And  fly  the  fight  of  his  too  wretched  daughter;, 
PLACIDIA. 

Alas  !  I  fear — I  know  not  what  I  fear — 
Imagination's  fliort  of  what  I  dread 
From  complicated  guilt,  which  ftalks  abroad, 
Oh  1  Heaven  ayert  the  deftiny  of  Rome  1 
EUDOCIA. 

I'm  fick  of  life — of  pageantry  and  pomp — 
Of  thrones  and  fceptres  flain'd  by  human  blood  ;•• 
Cojjpe  let  us  wander  down  the  facred  walks, 
The  filent  grots,  where  virtue  once  reclin'd. 

The  verdant  forefts  bend  their  lofty  tops 
To  make  a  covert  for  the  weary  head  ; 
There  tranquiliz'd  beneath  pale  Cynthia's  /hade, 
We'll  breathe  and  whifper  difappointed  love  *r 
And  weep  our  country,  family  and  friends, 
JTill  bright  Aurora  ftreaks  the  eaftern  fkies 
And  lights  us  buck  among  the  bufy  throng. 

{Exeunt. 


SCENE      IV. 
VALENTINIAN  and  HERACLIUS. 

VALENTINIAN*. 

JL  HE  gilded  morn  in  tranfports  hails  the  day. 
And  the  fhrill  trumpet  founds  to  martial  fports  j 
But  yet  a  certain  heavinefs  hangs  o'er  me, 
As  Chough  a  tempeft  burft  from  midnight  clouds. 

Were 


r-f-^ 


34  THE^SACK  OF  ROME. 

Were  I  afraid  of  either  gods  or  men, 
I'd  fwear  this  day  is  like  tile  ides  of  March, 
Big  with  portentous  omens  : — Calphnrnia's  dreams, 
And  my  Edoxia's  fears,  bear  fiich  a  femblance 
That  through  the  ni^ht,  (even  if  a  cricket  moves) 
I  flart — I  cry — rmy  evil  genius  !  fay, 
Doft  come  with  yEtius'  or  Petronius"  fvvord  ? 
HERACLIUS. 

No  fuperftitious  dread  fhould  ere  pervade 
The  royal  bofom  of  a  Roman  prince  ; 
Encircled  deep  by  faithful  veteran  bands 
Who  wait  hi?  fiat,  and  obferve  his  nod, 
To  feed  his  pleafures,  or  to  blaft  his  foes  ; 
To  light  the  capitol,  or  guard  the  ftate, 
Or  make  the  empire  tremble  at  his  frown. 

VALENTINIAN. 

The  noble  -flitius,  of  princely  birth, 
Poflefs'd  a  foul  by  Roman  valour  warm'd, 
That  won  the  plaudits  both  of  friends  and  foes  ; 
The  legions  lov'd — the  citizens  ador'd, 
And  all  will  murmur  at  his  fudden  fail ; 
Yet  more  I  fear  Petronius's  rage, 
Than  all  the  city,  fenators,  or  troops, 
HERACLIUS. 

Thou  haft  done  well  to  cut  a  traitof  down 
Ere  he  ufurp'd  androb'd  thee  of  a  throne  ; 
And  if  plebeian,  or  patrician  tongues, 
Should  utter  menace,  or  a  plaintive  word, 
Teach  them  the  fate  of  Rome  hangs  on  thy  will. 
VALENTINIAN. 

But  where  is  Maximus  ? 

Though  he's  in  friendfhip,  gen  Von  s  and  fincere, 
Yet  injur'd  once,  implacably  he  hates  : 


'Twcu'd 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME.  $£ 

'Twou'd  beggar  language  to  defcribe  his  pride, 
His  ftrength  of paffion  whenarous'd  to  rage  ; 
Inexorable  vengeance  tears  his  foul  : 
•Conftant  and  noble,  as  a  god  he  loves, 
But  as  a  furious  fiend,  rewards  his  foes  ; 
Nought  but  their  death  can  cool  his  pailions  down. 
HERACLIUS. 

Petronius  Maximus  returns  no  more 
To  interrupt  the  pleafures  of  the  court  : 
Ardelia  dead — the  funeral  pile  burnt  down— 
Her  afhes  gathered  in  a  golden  urn  ; 
He  in  defpair  has  left  the  imperial  city. 
Befide  the  margin  of  the  Tufcan  fhore, 
'In  a  fmall  villa  of  the  Anician  name, 
He's  gone  to  weep  his  folly  and  his  fate. 
VALENTINIAN. 

Where  are  his  friends  ? — his  num'rous  train  of  clients? 
Where  the  admiring  crowds  fed  by  his  hand, 
And  balking  in  his  wealth  ? 

HERACLIUS. 

Juft  as  the  world  in  ev'ry  age  have  done, 
Paying  their  court  where  better  fortune  fmiles  ; 
'Tis  not  the  fun,  when  muffled  up  in  clouds 
And  plunging  down  the  weftern  brirly  main 
Mankind  adore. 

The  eaftern  monarch  juft  from  Thetis'  bed, 
With  rofy  blu flies  on  his  morning  beams, 
Majeftick  rifing  o'er  the  burnifli'd  world. 
Beholds  his  homagers  on  ev'ry  fide  ; 
As  in  the  field  of  Mars  amid  the  fports, 
The  fon  of  Theodotius,  is  a  god. 
VALENTINIAN. 

Yet  anguiih  tears,  and  love  inflames  my  bread  ; 

Oh  I 


1$  THE  'SACK  OF  ROME. 

Oh  !  would -oblivion  wrap  a  fable  veil 
'O'er  my  remorfe,  and  o'er  Ardelia's  grief, 
O'er  her  bright  form,  and  her  untimely  death, 
I  might  defy  the  vengeance  of  her  lord  : 
Methinks  I  fee  her  lovely  tearful  eye 
With  fcornful  glances  fir'd — till  grief  and  fear, 
And  confirmation  numb  my  torpid  frame. 

HERACLIUS. 
Why  fhould  an-  emperor  fear  ? 

VALENTINIAN, 
Say,  where,  *s  Gaudentius  ? 

HERACLIUS. 

He,  fwift  of  foot  as  an  Herulian  archer, 
Efcap'd  my  fword,  and  fhehers  in  the  camp  ; 
But  after  him — with  thy-exprefs  command — 
A  trufty  meflenger  I  have  difpatch'd  : 
This  night  his  fire  may  meet  him  in  the  mades. 

VALENTINIAN. 

Where  is  Traulifta— prince  of  the  Oftrogoths, 
Pauntlefs  and  brave — his  firft — his  chofen  friend  ? 

HERACLIUS. 

Gone  to  Liguria  with  the  fon  of  .^Etius  j 
He  lov'd  him  much. 

VALENTINIAN. 
Then  let  him  (hare  his  fate. 

HERACLIUS. 

Leave  them  to  me,  and  chafe  thy  cares  away  j 
The  fports  are  ready — guarded  every  poft, 
And  while  the  victims  in  the  Circus  bleed, 
Smile  that  thy  foes  on  the  fame  moment  fall. 

VALENTJNIAN. 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME.  3; 

VALENTINIAN. 

Hafte  to  the  field  of  Mars — there  I'll  forget, 
A  pang  e'er  touch'd  my  heart. 

HERACLIUS. 
There  learn  all  Rome — 
That  if  they  brave  the  mandates  of  thy  lip, 
A  fov 'reign's  arm  mail  puriifti  as  it  ought. 

[Exeunt, 


SCENE       V. 

GAUDENTIUS  folus — In  difguife—juft  returned  to  the  city •> 
where  he  ewasJJjecwn  the  murdered  body  of  JEtius» 


A  S  this  the  dowry  of  the  fair  Eudocia> 
The  mangled  body  of  my  much  lov'd  fire 
Prefented  by  her  father's  guilty  hand  ? 
Juft  gods  avenge — the  trait'rous  deed  avenge  ! 
What  is  the  faith — or  what  the  gratitude, 
Or  what  the  facred  promife  of  an  emperor  ! 
As  cruelty  portrays  an  abjeft  mind, 
Servility  precedes  the  fall  of  ftates  : 
In  this  declenfion  of  the  Roman  world, 
While  tyrants  dip  the  fcymitar  in  blood, 
And  fport  on  human  mifery  at  large, 
Shall  I  fit  down  with  folded  arms  and  fee 
A  monfter  gorging  on  a  parent's  blood  j 
Or  unaveng'd  behold  a  father  die 
By  Valentinian's  bafe  ungrateful  hand  ! 
Yet  he,  alas  !  is  my  Eudocia's  fire  : 
But  glory,  fame,  ambition  and  revenge 
Bid  me  erafe  this  paflion  from  my  heart,     • 

D  And 


3-S  THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

And  boldly  ftem  the  madnefs  of  the  times, 
Recover  Rome  and  reinftate  her  power, 
And  bring  her  back  to  glory,  wealth  and  fame. 
But  hah  !— Eudocia,  penfive  and  alone  ; 

[Seeing  EUDOCIA  at  adiftance. 
Shall  I  advance,  or  banifh  her  forever  ? 

\Wh\le  be  btftates,  EUDOCIA/OTC/J;  cro/es  the  Jlage  without 

observing  him.'] 

.One  tear  diflTolves  the  firmnefs  of  my  foul, 
Unmans  the  mind,  and  melts  the  warrior  down  ; 
Dafhes  his  hope,  and  weakens  his  refolve  ; 
'Tis  ruin  to  retire — death  to  fpeak. 
Chafie  as  Diana  in  each  graceful  move, 
While  Venus  lights  the  features  of  her  face 
And  gives  her  fon  the  torch  to  fire  my  foul  ; 
Yet  honour,  confcience,  virtue  and  the  world 
Forbid  a  union  with  his  bloody  houfe  ; 
My  father's  murderer — the  gods  forbid  ! 
Yet  file's  all  innocence — and  virtue's  foul 
Shines  forth  confpicuous  in  her  heavenly  form  : 
I  hafte  from  her  as  from  the  hand  of  death. 

\&xfunt  different 


ACT 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME.  39 


SCENE          I. 

MAXIM  us  folusy  in  the  Anlcian  Palace,  thefunjujl 

jL  HE  bird  of  death  that  nightly  pecks  the  roof, 
Or  fhrieks  befide  the  caverns  of  the  dead  j 
Or  paler  fceptres  that  infeft  the  tombs 
Of  guilt  and  darknefs,  horror  or  defpair, 
Are  far  more  welcome  to  a  wretch  like  me 
Than  yon  bright  rays  that  deck  the  opening  morn  j 
That  fofdy  gliding  o'er  the  dewy  field 
Give  life  to  nature  —  cheer  the  daified  lawn, 
Where  my  Ardelia  trod  the  dappled  mead, 
And  breath'd  frefh  fweetnefs  through  the  blooming  dale, 
What  is  the  fun  to  Maximus  ! 
Its  noon  tide  ray  fhews  him  the  fport  of  fools  ; 
The  fimple  pander  of  a  lecher's  guilt. 
Ye  gods  !  was  reafon  lofl,  that,  fpiritlefs, 
My  weak,  my  daftard  hand  held  back  this  fword 
From  ftriking  inftant  at  the  tyrant's  heart, 
When  on  a  frivolous  pretence  he  urg'd, 
Before  another  day,  I'd  fee  the  camp  ? 

But  by  the  powers  that  fhake  the  ^Etnean  vaults, 
By  all  the  deities  of  Rome  I  fwear  ; 
And  ftill  more  folemnly  I  bind  my  foul, 
By  the  great  God  to  whom  Ardelia  bow'd, 
My  vengeance  (hall  not  fleep. 

Enter  T  R  A  U  L  I  S  T  A. 
TRAULISTA. 

What  caufe  is  there  for  Maximus's  grief? 
Why  is  thy  bofom  tortur'd  with  defpair  > 

Unfold 


: 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 


Unfold  the  tale,  command  TraulinVs  fword  j 
Wake  up  full  vengeance,  or  forbear  to  grieve. 
MAXIMUS. 

Tortures  may  feize,  and  furies  tear  my  heart, 
But  words  can't  utter  what  my  foul  endures  ; 
Confufion  darkens  all  my  powers  of  fpeech, 
And  blufhes  blaft  the  wretch  that  facrific'd 
His  fame — his  peace — his  honour — and  his  wife 
To  glut  a  tyrant's  luft. — My  brain  grows  hot — 
It  kindles  to  diftractron — yet  Valentinian  lives. 
TRAULISTA. 

What,  did  the  monfter,  in  thine  abfence,  dare 
Profane  the  facred  threshold  of  thy  peace  ? 
MAXIMUS. 

She,  ever  duteous  to  her  lord's  command, 
Was,  by  the  darkeft  plot  of  hell,  deceiv'd  j 
This  ring,  fo  often  by  her  hufband  fent 
In  times  too  dangerous  for  other  mefTage, 
To  her  prefented,  by  the  bafe  Heraclius, 
Reluctantly,  me  haften'd  to  the  palace — 
Though  terror  feiz'd  and  chil'd  her  frighted  foul  : 
She  through  each  hollow,  vacant  room  was  drag'd,. 
Till  in  the  filent  deep  abode  of  guilt, 
As  a  dark  fiend,  the  emperor  alone 
Waited  the  victim  of  his  madden'd  flame  : 
He  feiz'd  his  prey — nor  cries,  nor  tears  avail'd  ; 
She  Heaven  implor'd — to  pitying  Angels  pray'd, 
And  in  defpair  me  call'd  on  her  Petronius, 
Yet  thought  his  fanclion  back'd  the  vile  defign, 
TRAULISTA. 

And  hates  thee  for  fufpefted  perfidy. 
MAXIMUS. 

'Twaspaft  the  midnight  watch  when  I  return M  j 

With 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME.  4* 

With  anxious  dread  and  deep  fufpenfe  I  flew 
To  her  abode  of  rnifery  and  grief. 
In  fables  drefs'd — a  taper juft  burnt  down — 
That  darkly  glimmer'd  gloom  from  fide  to  fide- 
Indignant  fcorn  glanc'd  from  her  languid  eye  ; 
While  tears  bedew'd  her  bright  angelick  face, 
As  if  a  cherub  wept,  the  radiant  beams 
Of  ftars  obfcur'd,  or  of  extingiiifh'd  funs  : 
Difmav'd  fhe  held  a  dagger  in  her  hand 
As  half  refolv'd  to  plunge  it  in  her  bread, 
Yet  trembled  at  the  purpofe  of  her  foul  ; 
I  caught  her  hand,  and  drew  the  weapon  thence, 
Ere  (he  perceiv'd  her  wretched  hufband  nigh. 
TRAULISTA. 

Sure  (he's  too  good  to  let  refentment  burn. 
MAXIMUS. 

«  Poor  Maximus  !  (hecry'd — fpite  of  thy  guilt* 
My  foul  frill  pities  thee — receive  this  pledge 
To  cheat  fome  other  foft,  believing  fool  : 
Blot  from  thy  thought  that  e'er  Ardelia  liv'd: 
To  be  the  fport  of  riot  and  debauch." 
Then  fix'd  the  fatal  fignet  on  my  hand, 
This  curfed  fignet  that  has  feal'd  my  doom, 

[Shrws  thejignef* 

And  branded  me  with  infamy  forever. 
She  breath'd  a  fob  as  if  a  feraph  %h'd, 
Drop'd  a  kind  tear,  and  fmii'd  a  laft  adieu» 

THAULISTA. 
Hah  !  dead  !— fay'ft  thou  Ardelia's  dead  >    ^ 

MAXIMUS. 

All  the  big  paflions  of  a  noble  foul 
ThriU'd  through  her  heart,  and  (iiffen'd  all  her  frame  j 
J>a  The 


42  THE  SACK  OF  ROME, 

The  mining  angel  left  this  blufted  world, 
And  now  methinks,  ineffably  ferene, 
On  yon  bright  azure  golden  fldrted  cloud, 
Ardelia  gently  chides  this  tardy  hand 
That  lingers  thus  while  unaveng'd  her  death, 
TRAULISTA. 

I  bind  me  by  this  fword,  a  foldier's  oath* 
To  vindicate  in  blood  her  wounded  fame. 
MAXIMUS. 

Her  foul  unftain'd,  immaculate  and  pure, 
Not  meagre  malice  dare  impeach  her  mind  ; 
Nor  e'en  Megara's  tongue,  though- it  were  dip'd 
In  all  the  poifonsof  her  curling  fnakes, 
Till  the  gall  ganger'd  every  name  but  hers, 
Durft  whifper  aught  to  wound  Ardelia's  fame  : 
But  yet  her  wrongs  may  urge  thy  dauntlefs  arm, 
And  give  full  vigour  to  a  bold  defign, 
To  finite  a  fcepter'd  brow — yes — that  is  all— 
The  man  himfelf 's  a  poltroon — 
Yet  he's  an  emperor. 

TRAULISTA. 

This  makes  him  worthy  of  TraulinVs  fwonL. 
My  arm  mail  aid  till  juftice  holds  the  fcale 
To  foften  grief,  or  injury  repair. 

MAXIMUS. 

Go,  find  thy  friends,  and  ere  the  work  begins, 
I  afk  a  moment  to  indulge  my  grief  ; 
4  The  luxury  of'tears'  is  not  for  me — 
My  foul's  too  big  for  fuch  a  foft  relief  j 
Yet  I  may  rave  and  riot  o'er  my  woes. 

[Exeunt, 

SCENE 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME,.  43 

SCENE      IL 

MAXIMUS.*^GAUDENTIUS> 

MAXIMUM. 

T. 
HAT  dignity  the  gods  themfelves  infpir'd, 

When  Rome  inflam'd  with  patriotick  zeal, 
Long  taught  the  world  to  tremble  and  admire,. 
Lies  faint  and  languid  in  the  wane  of  fame, 
And  mud  expire  in  luxury's  lew'd  lap 
If  not  fupported  by  fome  vigorous  arm  ; 
Th'  Armorici  'tis  faid  have  pafs'd  the  Rhine, 
And  ruder  tribes,  both  Goth  and  Vandal  hofts, 
May  foon  be  thundering  at  the  gates  of  Rome  ; 
While  here,  a  treacherous,  bloody  minded  prince 
Stains  the  imperial  court  witlvflaughter'cl  friends, 
And  riots  in  the  zenith  of  his  pride. 

GAUDENTIUS. 

And  are  there  none  in  this  diffracted  ftate 
Whofe  courage,  zeal,  and  energy  of  mind, 
May  ftem  the  tide,  and  break  the  tyrant's  yoke  ? 

MAXIMUS. 

The  Roman. people,  ficken'dby  his  floth^ 
Detefl  a  weak,  a  lecherous,  daftard  prince 
Who  yet  cuts  down  the  braveft  men  Rome  boafts; 
And  mocks  tjie  mod  heroick  of  her  fons  : 
Abufed  virgins  rave  in  wild  defpair  ; 
Affronted  matrons  weep,  and  beauty  fighs, 
While  groans  reecho  from  the  tomb  of  grief, 
And  cry  for  vengeance  on  the  emperor's  head  ; 
For  innocence  betray 'd,  and  virtue  fold. 


4*  THE  SACK  OF  ROME, 

GAUDENTIUS. 

Difmay'd  by  blood,  the  fenators  deteft 
A  fovereign,  cruel,  impotent  and  bafe, 
And  all  the  army's  ripen 'd  for  revolt. 
MAXIMUS. 

"Tis  time  to  dafh  him  from  th*  imperial  throne  5 
Name  his  fuccelTor,  and  the  work  is  done. 
GAUDENTIUS. 

The  crown,  the  fceptre,  the  regalia  wait, 
Petronius's  will  to  guide  the  realm, 
And  bid  the  miftrefs  of  the  world  revive. 
MAXIMUS. 

Th'  imperial  crown  has  not  a  charm  for  me  ; 
Hung  on  a  foldier's  fpear,  expos'd  to  fale, 
Stain'd  with  the  blood  of  a  long  line  of  Casfars, 
From  Julius  down  to  Valentinian's  reign, 
*Tis  fall'n  too  low  to  wake  ambition  up. 

The  palace  groans  with  guilt  too  dark  to  name  ; 
*Tis  but  the  fplendid  theatre  of  woe, 
From  age  to  age  the  fhambles  of  mankind, 
On  which  to  facrifice  the  richeft  blood 
The  Roman  annals  boatf — the  crimfon  ftream 
Has  ras'd  the  memory  that  a  virtue  liv'd, 
Or  that  a  noble  deed  from  virtue  f prang 
In  the  proud  boafts  of  ancient  Roman  fame. 
GAUDENTIUS. 

Ambition,  in  a  noble,  virtuous  mind, 
Is  the  firft  paflion  that  the  gods  implant, 
And  foars  to  glory  till  it  meets  the  fkjes  : 
If  it  has  place  in  Maximus's  breaftr 
Fortune,  who  fports  with  diadems  and  crowns 
This  day  may  hail  him  emperor  of  the  weft. 

GAUDENTIUS, 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME.  4.5. 

GAUDENTIUS  paufes  a  moment,  retires  thoughtfully  a  fe*v* 
fteps,  fmotberi  an  exclamation ,  and  only  articulates 

—— — Oh  !  my  Eudocia. 

MAXIMUS. 

"Pis  juft  revenge  that  animates  my  arm  ;, 
But  did  ambition  urge' my  purpofe  on  ? 
Yet,  my  young  penfive  friend,  if  Valentinian 
Wraps  his  mantle  o'er  his  trembling  head— 
Like  Julius  Caefar  crys — "  Brutus  my  fon," 
Will  not  Eudocia  unnerve  thy  arm  ? 
GAUDENTIUS. 

Ah  !  my  Eudocia  ! — would  he  were  not  thy  fire  $ 
But  from  my  heart  I  tear  thee  for  a  moment, 
'Till  ^itius's  saanes  are  appeas'd, 
And  fair  Ardelia's  wrongs  are  all  aveng'd. 
MAXIMUS. 

But  art  thou  fure  thou  canft  this  teft  fuftain  ? 
This  teft  fevere,  of  friendship,  honour,  love, 
Will  try  thy  foul,  and  probe  thee  to  the  heart. 
Will  not  thy  purpofe  fhake,  when  her  foft  image 
Dances  in  thine  eye,  and  pity  pleads  ? 
But  yet  thou  haft  a  ft  niggle  more  fevere  ; 
Thou  may'ft  as  well  avenge  thy  bleeding  friends, 
And  draw  thy  fword  in  injured  virtue's  caufe  : 
'Tis  whifper'd  through  the  court  the  Suevick  chief* 
The  valiant  Ricemar,  has  purchas'd  peace 
With  Genferic  the  terror  of  the  weft  ; 
And  that  the  heirefs  of  the  imperial  throne 
Is  the  rich  price — that  Hunneric  his  fon 
Is  on  his  way  to  wed  the  fair  Eudocia. 

GAUDENTIUS. 

Petronius,  thou  haft  fix'd  my  wav'ring  will  ; 
Let  me  lead,  on — my  fword  alone, 

Without 


46  THE  SACK  OF  ROME, 

Without  another's  aid,  mall  find  its  way 
To  Valentinian's  heart. 

MAXIMUS. 

The  hour  draws  nigh — the  exercife  begins — 
Arm  thy  brave  heart,  and  bid  adieu  to  love. 

[Exit  MAXIMUS* 
GAUDENTIUS. 

How  would  my  eyeballs  from  their  fockets  ftart 
To  fee  Eudocia  in  that  monfter's  arms  ? 
Can  her  fair  foul  mix  with  the  horrid  brood, 
Begot  and  nurtured  in  the  Qmtdian  lakes  ! 

Beneath  the  vaulted,  black  Carpathian  mount,. 
Amidtt  the  darknefs  of  Cimmerian  damps, 
As  nature  (ported  with  infernal  fiends 
She  gender'd  there  this  ill  form'd  fqualid  birth, 
And  mid'fi  the  jargon  of  difeordant  founds 
She  call'd  the  beardlefs,  uncouth  monfter,  Hunneric  : 
And  mall  this  favage  violate  her  charms  ? 
Save  her,  ye  gods  ! — oh  !  fave  the  Roman  name        » 
From  fuch  a  ftain,  indelible  and  dark. 

[£*//. 


SCENE       III. 

MAXIMUS*»^TRAULISTA. 

MAXIMUS. 

JtXAIL,  mighty  prince  of  great  Hermannic's  line  ! 
Is  thy  fword  whetted  to  avenge  thy  friends  ? 

TRAULISTA. 

No  eagle  darting  down  the  flaughterM  field 
Of  human  carnage  ftrew'd  with  mangled  limbs, 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME.  47 

More  fwiftly  bends  its  talons  to  the  prey, 
Than  fhall  my  fword  deal  thunderbolts  around^ 
Whene'er  Petronius  wifiies  for  its  aid. 
MAXIMUS. 

But  art  thou  fure  that  not  one  traitor  lurks, 
'Nor  coward  heart  in  thy  felecled  band  ? 
TRAULISTA. 

There's  not  a  man  but  what  would  bay  the  lion? 
Or  meet  the  tyger  growling  from  his  den, 
By  hunger  urg'd  to  prowl  for  human  prey. 

When  Casfar's  dial  marks  meridian  day, 
They'll  fpring  to  a 61  ion  at  the  trump  of  war  ; 
As  the  train'd  fteed  who  (huffs  the  northern. air 
Leaps  through  the  crowd,  and  leaves  the  winds  behind, 

MAXIMUS. 

Have  they  ne'er  trembled  at  an  emperor's  frown, 
Nor  felt  the  fervile  homage  of  a  (lave  ? 
Will  not  the  valiant  arm  grow  ftck  and  flag, 
And  the  drawn  dagger  droop  e'en  in  thy  hand 
As  it  approaches  Valentinian's  bread  ? 

TRAULISTA. 

Have  I  not  fworn  by  Mars's  fiery  (word, 
The  redden'd  fymbol  of  the  Scythian  faith. 
To  aid  thee  to  avenge  thine  injur'd  love  ? 
Not  Cafca's  arm  e'er  gave  a  furer  blow 
Than  (hall  TraulUla's. 

MAXIMUS. 

The  great  Triumvirs  of  the  world  liave  fall'n 
By  weaker  hands  than  thine — thou  art  my  Caflius— . 
But  I  fear  Gaudentius — he's  of  a  fofter  mould — 
Humane  and  tender — though  a  valiant  prince  j 
Ha  feels  the  fofteft  paflion  for  Eudotia. 

TRAULISTA. 


4*  THE<SACK  OF  ROME. 

TRAULISTA. 

He  feels  no  pang  but  for  Eudocia's  fake  ; 
Yet  jealoufy  has  wak'd  a  war  within  ; 
Refentment,  love,  and  rage,  by  turns  diftracl, 
And  make  his  foul  a  chaos  of  defpair. 
MAXIMUS. 

Will  he  overcome  this  painful  ftruggle 
In  a  noble  bread  ? — Can  he  renounce  her  charms  ? 
When  filial  tears  are  leagu'd  with  juft  revenge, 
When  duty,  fame,  and  glory  combat  love, 
Will  the  fond  lover  a6l  the  hero's  part, 
And  fnatch  the  princefs  from  a  rival's  arms, 
Mid'ft  blood  and  /laughter,  and  the  frefh  grown  yews 
Hk  fword  may  drew  around  her  father's  tomb  ? 
TRAULISTA. 

Strike,  now's  the  time,  before  his  paflions  cool. 

MAXIMUS. 
Will  Valentinian  venture  to  the  fports  ?  N 

TRAULISTA. 

The  emperor  comes  with  more  than  ufual  pomp, 
A  chofen  cohort  added  to  the  guards. 

MAXIMUS.  ' 

Though  guilt  makes  cowards,  juflice  finds  them<Jut 
Not  all  the  legions  of  the  weftern  world 
Shall  fcreen  him  from  my  fword,  my  juft  revenge. 

[Exeunt, 


SCENE 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME.  49 

SCENE        IV. 
E  U  D  O  C  I  A  and  P  L  A  C  I  D  I  A. 

EUDOCIA. 


A: 


.LAS  !  my  fears — my  throbbing  heart  lie  ilill, 
Nor  ftartle  thus,  .e'en  at  a  quiv'ring  leaf  : 
The  downy  pillow  gives  me  no    repofe, 
And  flumbers  fly  from  the  foft  filken  couch  ; 
111  boding  terrors  make  the  gilded  roof; 

Methinks  I  hear  a  diftant  din  of  arms 

•  alarms and  fhouts [Shouts  without, 

As  though  from  heaven's  battlements  were  burft 
Some  dreadful  ruin,  that  may  empire  make. 

PLACIDIA. 

Another  fliout — I  fear  fome  fignal  blow  : 
This  early  morn,  as  fleep  forfook  my  lids, 
I  from  my  window  faw  Traulifta  hafte  ; 
Two  chiefs  befide  led  on  a  chofen  band, 
So  like  Thuringian  blood  hounds  in  their  geftures, 
I  trembled  at  tlie  fight  ;  yet  as  they  pafs'd 
I  caught  a  fignal  meant  to  be  conceal'd, 
A  hoarfe,  low,  hollow  voice  growl'd  from  the  midfl, 
**  Hade  to  the  Campus  Martius." 

EUDOCIA. 

Ah  !  what  new  fhcck  ? — tlie  tumult  bends  this  way— 
Oh  !  Valentinian  !  [The  ncife  draivs  near, 

PLACIDIA. 

The  furious  multitude  rufh  towards  the  palace  ; 
I  hear  the  legions  fhout — long  live  the  Emperor 
Petronius  Maximus. 

E  EUDOCIA, 


50  THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

EuDOCIA. 

Undone — undone  forever  ! 

Where  is  our  father  ? — Oh  !  where  the  good  Edoxia  i 
And  midft  the  group  of  mifery  and  woe — 
Would  heav'n  permit — ah  !    where  is  my  Gaudentius  ? 
[GA.UDENTIUS  rufbes fuddenfy  into  the  Palace — Soldiers  and 
Guards  in  tumult  without.'] 
GAUDENTIUS. 

He's  here,  my  princefs — lie  guards  the  fair  Eudocia— 
Protects  her  life  trom  every  ruffian  hand, 
Nor  fate  again  fliall  fnatch  her  from  mine  arms. 

EUDOCIA. 
Oh  !  leave  a  wretch  abandon'd  to  her  fears. 

GAUDENTIUS. 

What !  leave  Eudocia.  midft  this  furious  dorm  1 
Name  it  no  more — death  (talks  abroad, 
And  vengeance  lifts  his  arm — but  Heaven  forbid 
That  innocence  fhould  feel  the  dread  effects 
Of  cruelty  and  guilt. 

EUDOCIA. 

If  e'er  thou  lov'd — if  pity  touch  thy  foul — 
Fly  hence  to  fuccour  Rome,  and  fave  my  father* 

GAUDENTIUS. 

Thy  father  ! — he  had  a  friend  whofe  arm- 
Yes,  /Etius  was  his  friend — Oh  !  .^Etius. 

EUDOCIA. 

Barbarous  man  !  can'fl  thou  reproach  Eudocia, 
And  chill  her  with  the  terror  of  a 'name 
1  hat, rives  her  inmoft  foul  with  guilt  and  horror  ? 

GAUDENTIUS. 
Forgive  me,  princefs. 

EUDOCIA* 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME.  51 

EUDOCIA. 

Oh  !  Gaudentius — 

Could  my  poor  life  atone— my  clay  cold  corfe 
I'd  lay  on  ^Stius*.  tomb— fprinkle  his  urn — 
Refrefli  his  memory  with  the  Lift  purple  drop 
That  warms  to  love,  the  heart  of  thy  Eudocia. 
GAUDENTIUS. 

Pardon  the  tranfports  of  my.  filial  breaft, 
That  pours  its  forrows  o'er  a  father's  tomb  j 
Great  ^Etius's  virtues  juftly  claim 
A  tributary  tear  from  half  the  world. 
EUDOCIA. 

Had'ft  thou  a  marble  heart,  or  ftoick  foul,- 
Unmov'd  at  aught  the  deflinies  decree, 
Though  death  cut  down  the  hero,  father,  friend, 
I'd  fpurn  a  wretch  that  mock'd  thefe  tender  names 
Back  from  my  foul  to  ravage  the  wild  woods. 
But  fay,  what  tale  hangs  on  thy  tongue — 
Thou  durft  not  name  ? 

GAUDENTIUS. 

If  fate  commands,  and  wraps  both  in  a  fhroud, 
We  mud  forget  that  e'er  our  fathers  liv'd. 

EUDOCIA. 
Hah  !  parricide  ! 

Haft  thou  the  death  of  ./Etius  aveng'd  ? 
What  !  durft  thou  lift  thy  facrilegious  hand, 
And  hurl  a  blow  that  fevers  me  forever 
From  thine  arms  ?  then  come  with  this  bold  front 
And  fubtle  tongue,  to  lay  thy  fword 
Wet  with  her  father's  blood,  at  his  Eudocia's  feet  ? 

GAUDENTIUS. 

Not  all  th^wrongs  I  fufter'd  from  thy  fire, 
Nor  yet  the  vengeance  that  my  own  demand, 

Could 


5*  THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

Could  urge  my  arm  to  aim  an  impious  blow 
That  might  a  moment  interrupt  thy  peace  \ 
But  Maximus — 

EUDOCIA. 
What  of  the  traitor  Maximus  ? 

GAUDENTIUS. 
Ought  never  to  forgive  Ardelia's  wrongs. 

EUDOCIA. 

Tell  me  the  worft — am  I  the  only  wretch 
Of  all  my  houfe,  that  lives  to  weep  ?• 

GAUDENTIUS. 

Like  the  thrice  heated  bolt  from  heav'ns  high  arch, 
Through  the  dark  gloom  of  dreary  night  and  horror, 
That  falls  and  blafts  the  cedar's  lofty  top, 
The  lightening  fell  on  Valentinian's  head. 

EUDOCIA. 

From  heaven  ?— no,  'twas  hell  that  belch'd  the  flame  j 
By  jarring  fiends  the  pointed  fvvord  was  whet, 
And  them  waft  witnefs  to  the  horrid  deed. 
Let  us,  Placidia,  hade  with  trembling  fteps, 
"(Ere  earth  fhall  fink  beneath  his  guilty  feet,) 
Like  the  twin  fifters  of  misfortune  lead, 
If  yet  the  emprefs  lives,  to  her  apartment. 
F The Pnnccjfcs  in  an  agony  cf  grief  retire. — Exit  GAUDEN 
TIUS.] 


SCENE      V. 

The  Palace E  D  O  X  I  A,  fo/a. 

WCo'er, 
HEN  will  thefe  dark  and  lowering  clouds  pals 
And  brighter  afpecl:s  tinge  the  weilern  fkies  ? 

This 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME,  $3, 

This  day  is  big  with  omens  of  defpair, 
And  fome  wild  tumult  rages  loud  abroad  ; 
Each  face  is  pale,  and  every  eye's  afkance, 
As  wrapt  in  dark  myfterious  intrigue  : 
That  Maximus  muft  meditate  revenge 
There's  not  a  doubt  ;  and  when  he  ftrikes 
'Twill  be  a  deadly  blow — his  arm  difdains 
A  mean  or  vulgar  ftroke — and  his  bold  fpirit 
Shakes  at  no  refolve — yet  'tis  too  foon 
To  execute  the  deed — his  dreaded  rage, 
Oh  !   Heaven  ! — juft  Heaven  reftrain  ! 
Hah  !  who  art  thou  that  ent'reft  thus  abrupt  ? 

[LEO  enters  haftily  in  difgulfe* 
Difguis'd,  as  if  beneath  a  vizard,  lurk'd 
Mifchief  and  treafon — murder — guilt  and  death  I 

LEO. 

There  is  no  time  for  leave  of  audience  now  ; 
Hafte  hence  my  emprefs — fly  the  palace  gates 
Ere  all  the  avenues  are  feiz'd  by  Maximos. 

EDOXIA. 

Is  then  the  emperor  fiain  ? 
Am  I  the  flave  of  Maximus  ? 
Forbid  it  all  ye  powers  cf  heaven  and  earth  ! 

LEO. 
Thy  perfon  may  be  fafe,  if  not  a  moment's  loft, 

EDOXIA. 

What !  like  a  timid  fugitive  to  fly, 
And  rove  a  friendlefs  world  from  court  to  court  ? 
Though  royalty  is  tois'd  from  gale  to  gale 
On  fortune's  fickle  wing,  the  fportive  bubble, 
The  plaything  of  her  moft  capricious  hour  j 
Yet  know,  Edoxia  dares  to  hold  a  throne, 
And  lias  a  foul  to  fcourge  a  traitor's  guilt. 

E  z  Name 


54  THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

Name  thou  the  firft  who  ftruck  the  hn  pious  blow 
That  makes  the  glory  of  the  imperial  crown, 
He'll  feel  what  vengeance  'tis  my  anninflicls* 
LEO. 

Petronius  led  the  band  —  the  cohorts  join'd  — 
Traulifta  waited  at  the  Campus  Martins, 
'"Till  Valentinian  enter'd. 
The  fierce  barbarian  ftruck  his  helmet  off, 
And,  fwift  as  lightening,   fell  an  hundred  blows  ; 
His  trembling  foul  efcap'd  without  a  groan  ; 
The  army  and  the  Gothic  princes  cry'd 
Long  live  the  emperor,  Petronias  Maximus. 
EDOXIA. 

Forfook  —  betray  'd  —  and  widow  M  in  an  hour  ! 
Alas  !  iny  daughters  !  —  where  are  the  lovely  maids  ? 
Are  my  Eudocia  and  Placidia  fafe, 
Or  are  the  charms  of  innocence  and  worth, 
Of  virgin  beauty,  piety,  and  truth, 
The  fport  of  Gothic  flaves  I  [Enter 

,  --  Ah  !  my  Placidia  ! 
This  tender  woe  becomes  thy  filial  eye  : 
Alas,  Eudocia  !  —  lovely  in  thy  grief  ; 
I  can  no  more  than  fighs  and  tears  be  flow,. 
'Tisall  I  have  to  lend  my  haplefs  children. 
EUDOCIA 

Lend  not  a  figh  to  me  —  I  am  too  wretched  — 
But  fpare  thy  tears  for  thofe  who  may  be  bleft.. 
EDOXIA. 

My  tears  for  thee  can  never  ceafe  to  flow  ; 
Yet  tears  are  but  unfeeaily  gifts  indeed, 
And  ill  become  the  fbft  hymenial  hour. 

This  was  the'  day,  by  folemn  promife  made 
His  noble  fire—  Gaudeluius  might  have  claim  M 


His 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

Ills  16vely  bride,  and  fcal'd  his  nuptials 
Witli  tlie  fair  Ewdocia. 

EUDOCIA. 

.Name  liim  no  more  — 
Let  me  forget  that  e'er  I  was  belov'd, 
EDOXIA. 

Thefe  tears  indulge,  to  bathe  his  facred  urn, 
And  while  they  trickle  o'er  thy  blooming  cheek, 
Water  the  willows  round  thy  father's  tomb, 
Till  the  "brave  veteran  yEtius  (hall  chace 
The  bold  Petronius  from  the  imperial  throne, 


Ah  !  ^Etius  !—  Oh  !  happy  Rome,  if  .Etius  had  liv'eh 
EDOXIA. 

Had  yEtius  liv'd  !  —  Juft  gods  !  what  means  Eudocia  ? 
Has  the  monfter  flain  the  noble  -2Etius, 
And  rais'd  fo  high  tlie  mounds  of  death  around, 
That  juftice  cannot  reach  a  traitor's  heart  ? 
EUDOCIA. 

Great  .^Etius  is  dead  —  fpare  me  tlie  reft, 
Nor  from  my  bleeding  bread  the-ftopy  wring. 
EDOXIA. 

I'm  loft  and  wilder'd  in  this  mazy  path  ; 
What  furious  fiend  prefides  this  awful  day  ! 
On  every  fide  forne  fpeclre  ghaftly  grins, 
Through  floods  of  reeking  gore,  and  beckons  clown 
To  Hades'  dark,  benighted,  difmal  fhcre. 


ACT 


5$.  THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

ACT  IV. 

S        C        E        N        E          I. 

M  A  X  I  M  U  S,  folus. 


N 


OW  what  am  I  ?••  an  emperor — 

a  fplendid  wretch — 


Perch'd  on  the  blood  ftain'd  fummit  of  the  world. 
Search  through  each  horrid  wild  of  dreary  woe, 
From  Tyber's  ft  ream  to  Danube's  frozen  banks, 
From  fair  Hetruria  to  the  Hyrcanian  wood, 
Or  blacker  forefts  of  Carpathian  gloom, 
There's  not  a  culprit  fo  completely  curs'd — 
Tortur'd  in  pomp — in  tenfold  mifery  plung'd, 
And  torn  with  guilty  greatnefs,  as  myfelf. 
Happy  Damocles— only  envy'd  king, 
Whofe  reign  began  and  ended  in  a  day  ! 

My  vengeance  now's  complete  ;  but  where's  my  peace  ? 
Oh  !  could  I  leave  the  world  of  Roman  ftaves, 
Exil'd  to  Italy's  moft  diftant  bounds,    - 
Refume  that  life  of  innocence  and  eafe 
Which  blefs'd  the  noontide  of  my  happier  days, 
When  my  Ardelia's  fmile  crown'd  all  my  blifs  \ 

But  ah  !  her  name 

Wakes  all  the  baleful  paffions  of  my  foul. 

If  Valentinian's  grim  and  ghaflly  ghoft 
Still  wanders  here,  and  can  be  more  accursed, 
Let  mad  Alefto's  furious  fitters  join 
To  make  his  woes  complete — and  doubly  damn'd,. 
Let  him  look  through  the  dank  and  difmal  Shades, 
Of  night  and  death— in  anguifii  let  him  fee 
His  rival  riot  in  Edoxia's  arms. 

Enter 


THE  SACK  OF  ROMS.  ,5 

Enter  LEO. 

My  friend — my  faithful  Leo. 
LEO. 

I  am  the  friend  of  Rome,  and  of  Pctronius— 
Of  law — of  juftice — and  the  rights  of  man— 
The  fenators  of  Rome — and  of  Edoxia* 

MAXIMUS. 

Is  the  imperial  family  fee u re  ? 
Let  not  the  fmalleft  difreipect  be  mewn 
Or  to  the  emprefs,  or  her  royal  houfe.' 
LEO. 

Edoxia  fits  like  fome  majeftlck  oak, 
Or  fairer  cedar,  that  o'ertops  the  hills, 
Strip'd  of  its  leafy  robes — fhook  to  the  roof, 
By  the  rude  tempeft,  or  autumnal  blafts  ; 
The  ftorm  fubfides,  the  naked  branches  hufh'd, 
Silent  and  ftill,  demand  a  pitying  tear 
From  ev'ry  way  worn  traveller's  weeping  eye, 
Who  us'd  to  reft  beneath  its  friendly  (hade. 
MAXIMUS. 

The  wheel  of  fortune,-  rapid  in  its  flight, 
Lags  not  for  man,  when  on  its  f\*ift  routine  ; 
Nor  does  the  goddefs  ponder  unrefolv'd  : 
She  wafts  at  once,  and  on  her  lofty  car, 
Lifts  up  her  puppet — mounts  him  to  the  fkies, 
Or  from  the  pinnacle,  hurls  headlong  down, 
The  deep  abyfs  of  difappointed  hope. 

Thus  the  firft  ftroke  fuccefsful — 
A  beardlefs  Goth  huzza'd,  "  Petronius  reigns  !" 
The  factious  legions  caught  the  feeble  found  ; 
And  the  fame  moment  faw  the  imperial  robes 
Torn  from  one  emperor,  and  another  made, 
Without  a  murmur  from  the  fervile  throng  : 

Bornq 


55  THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

Borne  through  trie  crowd— till  to  the  palace  brought,. 
I've  not  yet  heard  Heraclius's  fate. 

LEO. 

The  faithful  minion  caught  a  thoufand  wounds, 
Aim'd  at  his  mailer  by  Traulifta's  band  ; 
He  curs'd  alternate,  heaven,  hirafelf  and  thee, 
And  di'd  an  hero,  though  he'd  liv'd  a  (lave. 

MAXJMUS. 

Then  bid  a  truce  to  (laughter  ;  * 

Let  not  a  drop  of  Roman  blood  be  fpilt  : 
And  now,  I  have  another  game  to  play  ; 
Edoxia  muftbe  mine — her  hand  I'll  feize — 
Her  heart  I  leave  till  time  may  do  its  work*. 
By  a  long  line  of  anceftry,  a  queen, 
Her  regal  title  to  the  imperial  crown 
Mufl  bind  it  fad  on  Maximus's  brow.. 

LEO, 

She  ftands  fuperiour  to  life's  roughen'd  ftorms  j 
Looks  calmly  down,. and  bids  the  waves  roll  on 
Till  the  laft  furge  ingulphs  her  weary  head. 
Yet  this  new  fcene  may  ihake  her  firm  refolve, 
And  raife  a  tempeftin  her  tranquil  bre?.ft. 

MAXIMUS. 

Repair  to  her — if  poffible  perfuade— - 
Yet  fix'd  as  fate  is  Maximus's  will  ; 
Though  keen  refentment  agitates  her  breaft, 
Or  her  indignant  foul  ftiould  burft  with  rage, 
Yet  ere  tomorrow's  fun  defcends  the  vale, 
And  hides  behind  yon   weflern  burnifh'd  hill, 
Our  hands  are  join 'd  by  wedlock's  facred  tie  ; 
It  mull  be  fo,  or  I'm  but  half  aveng'd.         [Exit  LEO, 

'Tis  done — the  envy'd  mailer  of  the  world  conceals 

A  thoufand 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

A  thoufand  pangs  beneath  a  purple  robe  ; 
Yet  furies  lurk,  and  vipers  gnaw  within, 
And  give  the  lie  to  fplendid  pomp  without. 

[Exh, 


w, 


SCENE      II. 

E    D    O    X    I     A,   folia. 


HERE  (hall  I  fly  ?— to  what  fequefter'd  (hade 
Where  the  world's  diftant  din  no  more  alarms, 
Or  warring  paflions  burft  through  nature's  tie 
And  make  mankind  creation's  fouled  (tain. 
Horror  and  guilt  (tare  wild  in  every  eye  ; 
Freedom  extinguifh'd  in  the  fumes  of  luft 
Bleeds  frefh  befide  Rome's  long  expiring  fame  $ 
Virtue's  become  the  rude  barbarian's  jeft, 
Barter'd  for  gold,  and  floating  down  the  tide 
Of  foreign  vice,  ftain'd  with  domeftick  guilt:: 
Oh  !  could  I  hide  in  fome  dark  hermitage, 
Beneath  fome  hollow,  difmal,  broken  cliff, 
I'd  weep  forlorn  the  miferies  of  Rome, 
Till  time's  laft  billow  broke,  and  left  me  quiet 
On  the  naked  ftrand. — [Enter  LEO.] — Ah  !   Lear 
Durft  thou  be  (till  the  friend  of  fad  Edoxia  ? 
Haft  thou  the  courage  yet  to  vifit  grief, 
And  footh  a  wretch  by  fympatheticK  tears  ; 
And  reconcile  me  tp  the  name  of  man  ? 
Can'ft  (hew  me  one  lefs  cruel  than  the  tyger 
Nurs'd  in  the  wilds,  and  feafting  on  the  flefti 
Of  all  but  his  own  fpecies  ? 
This  predilection's  left  to  man  alone, 
To  drink  and  riot  on  his  brother's  blood, 

LEO. 


60  THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

LEO. 

Fate  has  orda'm'd — 'tis  thou  mufi  give  us  peace  j 
Thy  lenient  hand  alone. 

EDOXIA. 

Mock  not  my  woe. 

'LEO. 

'Tis  thou  my  emprefs,  who  muft  ftop  the  tide 
That  threats  the  Deluge  of  the  Roman  world  ; 
The  jarring  factions  that  tear  up  the  (late 
Thyfelf  muft  quell,  and  reconcile— 

EDOXIA. 
Infult  not  my  diftrefs. 

LEO. 
The  emperor  Maxur.us — 

EDOXIA. 
Whofe  name  ftrikes  daggers  through  my  fiiivering  foul ! 

LEO. 
Demands  an. audience. 

EDOXIA. 
Speak  not  a  word  my  foul  difdains  to  hear, 

LEO. 
The  Roman  people —    . 

EDOXIA. 

Ah  !  what  is  Rome  to  me  ? 
LEO. 

All  wifli  a  union  in  the  royal  pair  ; 
And  Maximus  adores  Edoxia's  virtues.  * 

EDOXIA. 

What  is  the 'fanction  that  emboldens  thee, 
Thus  to  affront  thy  queen  ? 

LEO. 

Oh  !  pity  Rome — the  empire — and  thy  country — 
Save  thy  noble  houfc.  EDOXIA. 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME.  61 

EDOXIA. 

I  have  no  country. 
What's  life,  or  empire,  or  the  world  to  me  ? 

LEO. 
Yet  hear — oh  !  hear — for  Maximus  refolves. 

EDOXIA. 

And  art  thou  come  to  fue  for  Maximus, 
Whofe  blacken 'd  foul,  blown  np  by  fierce  ambition, 
AfTumes  the  reins,  and  drives  the  courfer  on, 
With  furious  paffion  and  unbridled  luft  ? 

LEO. 
The  emperor  admits  of  no  delay, 

When  once  rcfolv'd. 

EDOXIA. 
Remember,  Leo, 

The  blood  that  flow'd  from  Poplicola's  veins, 
From  breaft  to  bread  through  the  Horatian  line, 
And  thence  to  me  convey'd — a  gen'rous  ftrcam 
That  animates  and  warms  Edoxia's  heart, 
Shall  ne'er  be  tainted  by  a  bafe  fubmiflion. 

LEO. 
Impatiently,  he  waits  thy  laft  reply. 

EDOXIA. 

Tell  him  I'm  not  the  coward  fool  he  thinks  ; 
That  guilty  greatnefs  has  no  charms  for  grief  ; 
I  fcorn  his  impious  paflion — deteft  his  name. 

4ft 

LEO. 

Yet  fave  thyfelf — thus  on  my  bended  knee,      [Kneels. 
Let  me  befeech  from  thee  a  mild  reply. 

EDOXIA. 

Tell  him,  a  traitor's  heart,  though  fwell'd 
By  adulation's  bafe  perfume,  has  not  a  hand 
To  wield  the  imperial  fceptre. 

F  LEO. 


6z  THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

LEO. 

And  therefore  needs  thy  aid, 
Both  to  {'ecu re  and  dignify  the  throne. 
EDOXIA. 

This  infolence  from  thee  ! — the  pious  Leo — 
Tvly  former  friend — the  guardian  of  my  youth  ; 
I  thought  thy  foul  call  in  a  purer  mould — 
Above  the  fervile  line — not  thus  to  court 
And  meanly  grovel,  for  a  tyrant's  fmile. 
Leave  me,  bafe  wretch — go  fawn  on  thy  new  matter.; 
Tell  him  at  once,  Edoxia  dares  to  die. 

LEO. 

Forgive  this  boldnefs  !  —  Alas !  could  I  but  fave, 
Or  ferve  thy  noble  houfe,  there's  not  a  tafk 
Edoxia  could  impofe,  this  aged  arm 
Unnerv'd  by  time  and  grief,  would  not  attempt. 

Yet  might  as  well  the  breath  of  wifdom  flrive 
To  reafon  down  the  tempeftof  the  north, 
Or  lull  the:  maddening  hurricane  to  reft, 
As  to  perfuade  when  Maximus  refolves. 
.Oh!  would    kind  Heaven,  which  fav'd   thee  from  die 

fword, 
Still  find  feme  way  to  blefs  and  make  thee  happy. 

[f&eps. 
EDOXIA. 

Thy  venerable  grief,  rny  aged  friend, 
.Softens  refcntment,  which  thy  zeal  inflam'd  : 
In  that  kind  tear  the  foul  of  Leo  fhines  ; 
Yet  fay,  is  Rome  fo  poor  and  abjeft  grown — 
So  far  debas'd,  that  when  a  ruffian  dares 
To  ftab  his  prince,  and  boldly  challenge 
To  his  impious  bed,  the  wife  of  his 
.Aifufimated  lord — none  dare  oppofe  ? 

Has 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME.  63 

Has  Rome  for  this  fo  often  fought  and  conquer'd'? 

Has  the  bell  blood  the  Roman  name  can  boafr, 

Redden'd  the  Tyber  with  its  purple  dreams, 

To  purchafe  freedom  by  the  fwift  perdition 

Of  every  bold  invader,  from  Tarquin's  reign, 

To  the  more  fatal  day,  when  guilty  Maximus 

AfTiim'd  the  purple  ? — May  thunders  roll, 

And  ftreams  irruptive,  blaft  a  wretch  like  him — 

Or  fheets  of  livid  flame  enwrap  Edoxia 

From  his  hated  fight. 

Go  on  and  bear  this  anfwer  to  thy  lord.         [Exit  LEO. 

Thou-  great  firft  caufe,  who  bids  the  tempeft  rage, 
And  rends*  with  mighty  peals,  the  darkened  air, 
Light  up  the  fkies  and  blaze  from  north  to  fouth, 
Thy  vengeance  pour  on  complicated  guilt.  [Exit. 


SCENE       III. 

MAXIMUS  and  LEO    moving  to  the  Apartment   of  the 
Emprcfs. 


H 


MAXIMUS. 


AH  ! — does  the  emprefs  haughtily  reject 
My  proffer 'd  vows,  and  Tpurn  me  from  her  arms  ? 

LEO. 

Loft  in  the  tender  agonies  of  woe, 
She  wept,  regardlefs  of  thy  ardent  prayer  ; 
'Till  grown  outrageous  by  my  urgent  luit, 
She  ftarted  wild,  as  if  defpair  awcke, 
And  rav'd,  and  fob'd,  and  imprecated  death  : 
At  laft,  collected  in  majeftick  pride,. 

She 


*4  THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

She  drew  a  poignard  from  beneath  her  robe, 
And  folemn  fwore,  in  moft  indignant  ftrains, 
If  you  prefum'd  to  fpeak  to  her  of  love, 
Its  point  transfix'd  mould  fend  her  to  the  grave, 
More  welcome  far  than  thy  abhor'd  embrace. 

[Scene  opens  aqd  difcovers  EDOXIAt 

Enter  MAXIMUS  and  LEO.- 

MAXIMUS, 

I  afk  thy  hand,  and  claim  thee  as  my  queen- 
jointly  to  govern  and  reform  the  ftate. 

EDOXIA. 

And  muft  an  emprefs  bear  this  bold  outrage— 
Thefe  ftings  of  infult  ? — Shall  a  villain's  hand 
Dlag  to  the  altar — facrifice  my  fame, 
To  each  black  paffion  that  deforms  the  foul  ? 
Oh  !  Heaven  look  down — his  bold  ambition  curfe— 
Deftruclion  fend  on  him  and  all  his  race. 
MAXIMUS. 

Did  luft  of  empire,  or  of  fame  alone, 
Thus  bid  me  urge  the  fair  Edoxia's  hand — 
Ambition,  that  proud  fource  of  human  woe, 
Thou  might'ft  fufpeft  had  pufh'd  my  purpofe  on  ; 
But  though  the  luftre  of  a  crown  allures, 
And  fanclion  gives  to  deeds  of  boldeft  hue, 
Juftice  alone,  and  love  of  virtue  warms, 
My  ardent  heart,  and  animates  my  arm. 
EDOXIA. 

Durft  thou  profane  the  facred  name  of  virtue  ? 
A  facrilegious  murdVer  talk  of  virtue  ! 
Thou  know 'ft  not  what  it  means — an  heart  like  thine 
Ne'er  felt  its  facred  warmth — not  an  idea 
Of  the  heavenly  flame  could  e'er  exift 
ID  thy  corrupted  brain — blown  up  by  luft — 

Revenge— » 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME.  65 

Revenge— ambition — death — 
Thy  dagger  reeking  with  thy  fovereign's  blood, 
Thou  ftill  would'rt  heighten  thy  detailed  crime 
And  make  his  wife  a  partner  in  thy  guilt. 

MAXIMUS. 

Thou  wrong'ft  me  much — to  plead  my  caufe 
Would  wound  fo  chufte  an  ear  ; — falfe  to  his  vo\rs, 
And  faithlefs  to  thy  bed,  he  wrong'd  at  once 
The  emprefs  and  myfelf. 

EDOXIA-. 
Him,  I  forgive 

But  not  the  afTaffin  of  my  injur'd  lord  ; 

Oh  !  let  me  fly  from  thee,  and  from  perdition; 

MAXIMUS. 

My  deftinyimpeird  againft  my  will, 
My  evil  genius  and  my  fate  combin'd  ; 
Nor  will  I  now  recede  and  yield  a  throne. 
Thy  wifdom,  grace,  and  dignity  of  foul, 
Command  refpecl,  and  bend  me  to  thy  charms  ; 
I  afk  thy  aid  to  extirpate  from  Rome 
Injuftice — vice — with  anarchy  and  crimes* 
My  gracious  princefs,  fovereign,  queen  and  wife, 
Reign  dill  in  Rome,  and  grace  the  imperial  throne. 
EDOXIA. 

Thy  perfidy  thou  think'ft  is  made  fecure 
By  plunging  ^Etius  in  the  general  wreck  ; 
His  valorous  hand  would  from  thine  impious  grafp 
Have  pluck'd  the  fceptre,  ftained  by  thy  touch  :, 
Yes,  if  through  Rome  there  was  a  Roman  left 
As  brave  as  ^Stius,  the  diadem 
Would  of  itfelf  drop  off, 
From  thine  imperious  brow.  ^ 

F  s,  MAXIMUM 


6(5  THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

MAXIMUS. 

Does  not  the  emprefs  know  who  murder'd  ^Etius  ?— - 

[To  LEQ> 
And  that  Petronius  would  avenge  his  death  ? 

LEO. 

The  bloody  deed  had  not  yet  reach 'd  her  ear, 
When  Valentinian  fell. 

EDOXIA. 

It  is  enough,  fhe  knows  the  mifcreant — 
The  proud  ufurper  of  the  vacant  throne, 
Who  dares  afpire  to  Valentinian's  bed  ; 
But  witnefs,  all  ye  powers  of  earth  and  heaven, 
Ere  my  foul  bends  to  fan&ify  the  deed, 
Or  yields  a  victim  to  this  bold  offence, 
The  horrid  void  beneath  the  Tarpeian  rock 
Shall  firfl  be  fed  by  all  the  Anician  race. 

MAXIMUS. 

Prepare  the  rites — Edoxiamuft  be  mine — [To  LEO* 
Before  the  wood  lark  hails  the  morning  dawn, 
Or  early  matins  call  the  virgins  forth 
To  chant  their  lays— the  emprefs  is  my  bride- 
Then  time  and  love  fhall  foften  by  degrees, 
?Till  Lethe  lends  forgetfulnefs  to  grief. 

[Exit  MAXIMUS  and  LE«*. 

EDOXIA. 

Ye  gods  ! — where  am  I  ? — 
Shall  I  be  aw'd  by  Maximus's  frown 
To  ftain  the  glory  of  the  Horatian  name  ? 
Alas  ! — ye  patriots  of  ancient  fame — 
Where  are  the  youth,  whofe  glorious  fathers  di'4 
To  fave  the  commonwealth  ? 
Arife  !  ye  ancient,  venerable  fhades, 

Who 


THE  SACK  QF  ROME.  67 

Who  bravely  fought  for  liberty  and  Rome  : 
Afllft  my  powers — my  fingle  arm  fhall  dares 
Some  dreadful  deed  of  horrid  defperation. 

I  fwear  by  him  who  thunders  in  the  fkie§, 
By  him  who  thunders  in  the  vaulted  fides, 
And  downward  points  the  artillery  of  Heaven, 
'Till  worlds  diflblve  beneath  his  dreaded  frown, 
The  moft  diftinguifh'd  vengeance  fhall  befall 
The  Roman  world,  for  Maximus's  fake.  [Exit-. 


SCENE        IV. 

GAUDENTIUS  ^EUDOCI  A. 

GAUDENTIUS. 

HOUGH    nature  frowns,   and  monfters  howl 

around 

And  threat  the  bands.of  each  domeftick  joy, 
Yet  innocence  and  truth  fnould  ceafe  to  weep  ; 
"lis  guilt  alone  fhould  tremble  in  the  ftorm. 

EUDOCIA. 

My  native  land  diftain'd  with  Roman  blood 
Warm  from  the  veins  of  patriots  and  kings — 
A  father  flain — a  mother's  tender  woe — 
Her  virgin  daughters  weeping  by  her  fide, 
Add  ftings  to  pain,  and  poignancy  to  grief. 
GAUDENTIUS. 

Let  Angels  guard  and  calm  thy  ruffled  breaft  f 
Let  love  and  virtue  cheer  thy  drooping  foul  ; 
And  let  thy  peace  reanimate  again 
A  prince  that  lives  but  in  Eudocia's  fmile. 


68  THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

EUDOCIA. 

Talk  not  of  peace  to  the  imperial  houfe  ; 
The  hand,  the  dark  aflafTinating  hand, 
That  pierc'd  th'  unguarded  heart  of  Valentinian, 
Has  murder'd  all  his  race — hah  !  Gavidentius  ! 

[GAUDENTIUS  trembles,  and  turns  pale. 
Why  trembles  thus  Gaudentius,  at  Valentinian 's  name  ? 
A  name  he  once  rever'd,  and  call'd  his  friend- 
Is  ft  a  probe  that  touch'd  a  fecret  wound'? 

GAUDENTIUS. 

My  love — my  grief — my  fears — 
A  fudden  illnefs  that  will  foon  fubfide. 

EUDOCIA. 
T*hy  fears — why  mould  Gaudentius  fear? 

GAUDENTIUS. 

For  all  my  foul  holds  dear  beneath  the  ftars — 
Thy  peace — thy  health — thy  happinefs  and  lovs, 

EUDOCIA. 

Is  there  a  latent  canfe,  this  moment  wak'd, 
To  doubt  Eudocia's  love  ? 

GAUDENTIUS. 

Thy  deep  dejection— thy  too  curious  eye — 
A  brow  o'eucaft  with  fomething  like  a  frown, 
Ne'er  feen  before,  where  fweetnefs  fits  enthron'd, 
And  foft  complacence  has  been  us'"d  to  fmile, 
Amidft  the  grief  that  wrung  the  aching  heart. 

EUDOCIA. 

Does  thine  own  confcience  frnile,  and  whifper  peace  5 
And  art  thou  fure  that  all's  fecure  within  ? 
I  much  fufpecl,  thy  friend,  Traulifla, 
Is  a  fecret  foe — and  that  his  hoflile  hand, 
Oft  fteep'd  in  blood — fierce  as  the  vulture's  fang, 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

Was  not  inactive  on  that  fatal  day, 

When  the  remorfelefs  fword  mow'd  down  as  grafs 

The  faithful  friends  to  Valentinian's  houfe. 

But  Heaven  forbid,  that  e'er  the  bitave  Gaudentius> 

A  good,  a  generous,  noble  minded  prince, 

Should  join  a  murderous  band — impoflible  I 

I  will  not  wrong  thee  thus — yet  fome  firange  horror 

Seizes  all  my  frame — as  if  my  father's  ghoft 

Stood  bleeding  by,  and  chid  this  parley 

With  a  parricide. 

[EUDOCIA  turns  abruptly  to  lwit}jdratvjt 

GAUDENTIUS. 

Oh  !  leave  me  not,  my  princefs,  thus  fufpecled, 
EUDOCIA. 

If  thou  art  guilty,  own  thy  crime  at  once  ; 
A  poor  defence  will  make  thee  doubly  fo.. 
If  the  leaft  guilt  contaminates  thy  foul, 
My  own  would  fhare  by  hearing  thy  excufe  ; 
I  fee  thee  not  till  time  reflore  thy  fame  ; 
And  yet  I  fear — Oh  !  death  to  name — I  fear, 
Thy  infamy  is  fix'd — forever  fix'd, 
Beyond  redemption's  call.  [EupociA  e 


SCENE      V. 
TRAULISTA  and  GAUDENTIUS, 

TRAULISTA. 

HY  does  my  friend  wear  that  foft  April  eye 
What  is  it  poifons  thy  heroick  foul, 
And  damps  the  vigour  of  thy  martial  arm  ? 

Brace 


70  THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

Brace  up  thy  nervesy  and  fence  about  thy  breaft> 
And  fcorn  the  boon  of  pity  from  a  girl — 
A  haughty — ftubborn — folemn  Roman  maid. 

GAUDENTIUS. 

A  heart  like  thine — infenfible  to  love — 
Dead  to  the  foft  fenfations  of  the  foul — 
Only  to  fierce  Bellona's  voice  awake — 
Though  all  the  fex  were  offer'd  to  thy  choice, 
Knows  not  the  joy,  nor  feels  the  tender  pang, 
Fear  may  excite,  or  expectation  raife. 

TRAULISTA. 

What  haft  thou  got  by  all  thy  love  fick  dreams  ? 
Go  fhew  the  mighty  Goths  thy  baby  face, 
And  fee  if  one  would  know  it  was  Gaudentius, 
"Who  fought  and  conquer'd  on  the  Danube's  banks  ; 
Tell  them  you've  whin'd  for  more  than  twenty  moons- 
Creft  fallen,  figh'd  before  a  puling  chit, 
The  daughter  of  thy  moft  inveterate  foe — 
The  murderer  of  thy  fire. 

GAUDENTIUS. 

But  he's  aveng'd — 

And,  like  the  frighted  hare,  fhe  fled  my  fight, 
Sufpecls  me  an  accomplice,  charg'd  me  home, 
With  treafon,  murder,  perfidy  and  blood. 

TRAULISTA. 

Come,  be  thyfclf  again  ;  nor  longer  b:vfls 
Upon  the  filken,  downy  lap  of  hope  ; 
Leave  her  to  figh,  and  whifper  to  the  winds — 
Elfe  fnatch  by  force,  and  bear  her  o'er  the  wilds, 
Through  growling  forefts — hideous,  broken  cliffs, 
And  frozen  feas — to  Scythia's  icy  banks, 
Where  rugged  winds  pour  from  the  brindled  north 

A  down 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME.  7 

Adown  the  mountain's  brow — a  blaft  may  cool 
The  tranfports  of  thy  love. 

GAUDENTIUS. 

Heaven  blaft  a  wretch,  whofe  fierce  barbarick  heart 
Would  violate  in  thought  fo  chafte  a  fame — 
A  puVity  allied  to  heaven  itfelf. 
Alas  !  the  charmsthat  have  fubdii'd  my  heart 
Have  fomething  more  than  human  in  their  birth. 

TRAULISTA. 

Then  why  profanely  figh  for  charms  divine  ? 
Think  thee  of  Bleda's  hospitable  dames, 
Won  without  wooing — thine  without  a  figh  ; 
But  if  ye  choofe  to  wanton  in  the  weft, 
And  hang  upon  the  dimpled  fmile  of  love, 
A  day,  perhape,  or  lefs,  'brings  on  the  fcencs 
That  level  all  the  bars  round  birth  and  beauty, 
Or  innocence  and  elevated  worth. 

Thou  may 'ft  be  fafe  e'en  in  the  imperial  court» 
'Till  forfeited  with  thofe  Italian  fmiles  : 
The  blue  ey'd  mountain  maids  of  Caucafus, 
(Who,  once  allur'd  by  native,  artlefs  charms,) 
Call  back  thy  fighs  to  nature's  utmoft  bounds, 
The  bolder  beauties  of  the  northern  world. 
GAUDENTIUS. 

Forbear,  Trauliila — nor  fport  thus  with  my  pain. 
TRAULISTA. 

Come  then,  erect  the  fcymitar  of  Mars, 
And  twang  the  bow  ftring  at  the  trumpet's  found. 

GAUDENTIUS. 

Go,  clear  my  wounded  fame — allure  the  princefs 
That  I  did  not  ftrike — that  her  fair  image, 
Hovering  round  his  head,  held  back  my  hand — 

Repell'd 


7z  THE  SACK  OF  ROML. 

Repellyd  the  pointed  fword — for  aught  I  did, 
Her  father  might  have  liv'd. 

TRAULISTA. 

I  know  ye  a6ted  as  a  coward  would — 
But  half  refolv'd,  and  trembling  at  thyfelf : 
Yes,  I  will  fee  Eudocia  is  inform'd, 
She's  made  a  poltroon  of  a  noble  prince. 

GAUDENTIUS. 

Hah  !— rthis  from  thee  ? — yet  know  he  has  a  fword, 
That  will  not  fail  to  reach  a  villain's  heart, 
•  And  let  the  venom  out  that  rankles  there. 

[Lays  his  band  on  his  fword, 
TRAULISTA. 

For  this  I  love  thee — come  on  and  try  its  mettle— 
I  fear'd  thou  had'ft  forgot  who  was  4hy  fire, 
And  that  the  luftre  of  his'burnifh'd  blade, 
Wielded  by  him  in  many  a  hardy  field, 
Had  hurt  the  opticks  of  the  gentler  foil 
Of  noble  -flitius. 

GAUDENTIUS. 

Draw  and  defend  thyfelf. (Draws} 

TRAULISTA. 

What  mall  I  tell  Eudocia,  when  (he  chides, 
If  I  ftiould  fcratch,  or  let  oat  Roman  blood  ?  (Infuhlngly) 

GAUDENTIUS. 

The  emprefs  comes— forbear — I,  on  the  morrow, 
Meet  thee  in  the  Circus. 

TRAULISTA. 
Come  on,  my  boy — 

The  morrow  may  have  other  work  to  do  ; 
This  day  fliall  tilt  thee  fwiftly  out  of  time, 
If  thou  art  weary  of  thy  filkeii  chain. 

[Exit  TRAULISTA* 
Enter 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME.  js 

Enter    E  D  O  X  I  A. 

EDOXIA. 

My  fon — my  friend — my  injur'd  friend  Gaudentius> 
Canft  thou  forgive  the  noble  ^Etius'  death  ? 
Thou  lov'ft  Eudocia  with  the  pureft  flame  : 
Remember  Valentinian  was  her  fire, 
Then  vindicate  the  honour  of  her.houfe. 

GAUDENTIUS. 

While  life  glows  warm  in  this  my  faithful  bre&ft, 
Eudocia  holds  my  fortune  and  my  fate. 
EDOXIA. 

I  know  thou'rt  noble,  generous  and  juft, 
And  not  lefs  brave  than  ^tius  thy  fire  ; 
He  wore  a  fword,  he  dar'd  to  draw 
In  injur'd  virtue's  caufe — nor  fear'd  the  frowns 
Of  tyrants  or  of  kings — it  is  thy  birthright, 
Durft  thou  grafp  it  hard,  and  boldly  venture, 
For  Eudocia's  fake,  to  extricate 
Her  mother  from  the  arms — the  hated  bed 
Of  an  ufurper  of  her  father's  throne  ? 
GAUDENTIUS. 

There's  nought,  true  courage  prompts  the  brave  to  do, 
Or  virtue  juftifies,  or  honour  calls, 
But  what  I  dare  attempt. 
But  if  it  mars  the  peace  of  Rome 

EDOXIA. 

The  peace  of  Rome  is  an  ideal  thing  j 
Loft  in  the  tide  of  every  (hameful  vice, 
Rapine  and  blood  ;  and  violence  and  lufl 
But  mock  the  ftory  of  her  ancient  fame. 
Canft  thou  a  moment  balance  in  the  fcale 
The  tranquil  fcenes  of  harmony  and  peace, 

G  With 


74  THE  SACK  OF  ROME, 

With  all  the  lullre  that  adorns  a  crcnvn  ? 
Jiudocia  gives  an  empire  with  her  hand. 

GAUDENTIUS. 

My  fword — niy  fervices — my  life  are  thine-— 
Ambition  burns,  and  love  and  glory  join — 
'Yet  name  no  ta&  that  more  diftracls  my  country. 

EDCXIA. 

Then  thou  canfl  fee  the  emprefs  bfeth'd  in  tear£, 
Drag'd  by  Petronius  to  the  facred  altar — 
.Compell'd  to  be  his  bride — the  fair  Eudocia, 
But  a  moment  lent,  to  dry  the  filial  tear, 
.Ere  flic's  compeil'd  to  wed  his  worthlefs  heir  ? 

GAUDENTIUS. 

Not  all  the  powers  of  earth,  or  hell  combin'd, 
iShall  rob  me  of  my  wife,  my  lov'd  Eudo-cia. 

EDOXIA. 
Wilt  thou  apply  to  Genferic — my  friend  ? 

.GAUDE-NTIUS. 

A  dangerous  expedient  indeed — 
A  taithlefs  friend — a  treacherous  ally. 

EDOXIA. 

The  time  forbids  evafion,  orexcufe — 
Admits  of  no  delay — my  purpofe  is 
Irrevocably  fix'd. — Say,  wilt  thou, 
At  the  port  of  Oftia,  meet  Genferic — 
Bear  him  my  fignet-^-bring  him  on  to  Rome  ^ 

GAUDE-NTITJS. 

.Kot  for  the  golden  treafures  of  the  eaft, 
Or  all  the  wealth  the  tempting  world  beftows  ; 
No,  though  Eudccia  were  the  bright  reward, 
Could  I  betray  the  capitol  of  Rome, 
And  fell  my  country  to  the  Vandal  -king  ? 

EDOXIA 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME,  75 

F/DOXIA. 

Wilt  thou  betray  the  mother  of  Eudocla, 
And  blaft  my  hopes  of  moft  f'evere  revenge  ? 

GAUDENTIUS. 

Though  great  thy  wrongs,  much  greater  mtift  thou  fear> 
If  Genferic's  rapacious  brutal  hofts 
Should  enter  Italy — my  fovereign  forbear, 
And  like  the  gods,  benignantly  forgive  j 
Nor  let  re&ntfnent  kindle  up  anew 
The  flames  of  war  ;  nor  introduce  in  Rome^ 
Thofe  favage,  hoftile  guefts  to  riot  there, 
To  fubjngate  the  ftate — fubvert  thy  houfe, 
To  extirpate  thy  name,  and  rtitkly  reign 
And  triumph  o'er  the  Weft. 

«  EDOXIA. 

'Tis  done— I  fear'd  thy  tardy  fpirit — 
The  laft  remains  of  patriotick  virtue, 
So  like  a  glow  worm  in  a  ftormy  night, 
It  twinkles  but  to  fh&w  the  fable  hue 
By  nature  worn  through  all  the  midnight  gloom. 

A  trufty  meflenger,  i  tlierefore  fent — 
The  winds  have  fped,  and  brought  him  back  to  Rome  j 
And  ere  Petronius  dreams  of  danger  nigh, 
Genferic's  thunder  (hakes  the  capital. 

GAUDENTIUS. 
Thou  haft  (truck  deep — a  fure  and  deadly  blow.. 

EDOXIA. 
The  tangled  lion  can't  eicape  the  toils* 

GAUDENTIUS. 
Nor  thou — nor  Rome — nor  all  thy  houfe,  perdition. 

EDOXIA. 
Secure  thyfelf,  and  leave  the  reft  to  me. 

[Trumpet- 


7*  THE  SACK  OF  ROME, 

GAUDENTIUS. 

Hark  !  the  flirill  trump  !— Genferic's  herald 
Cannot  yet  be  nigh. 

EDOXIA. 

.     Like  a  brave  friend,  he  inftantly  prepared 
To  plant  his  banners  round  the  towers  of  Rome. 

GAUDENTIUS. 

The  fenate — people — all  the  royal  houfe", 
For  (laughter  ripe,  in  its  mod  dreadful  form — 
Proud  Rome  the  feat  of  arms,  and  arts,  and  fame, 
Stands  tottering  on  the  verge  of  mighty  ruin. 
A  foldier's  duty  calls  ;  I  hafte  away  ; 
Fate  may  do  much  before  we  meet  again  j 
She  has  a  bufy  hand,  and  fwiftly  rides 
On  revolution's  wheel-— Rome  may  be  fack'd, 
And  crowns  and  fceptres  tofs'd  from  fliore  to  more, 
Tjanfplanted,  or  defpoii'd. 


ACT 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME.  7? 

A         C         T  V. 

SCENE          I. 

The  SENATE  a/embled  in  tie  Palace. — Enter  an  HERALD* 
HERALD. 

JL  HE  Vandal  king,  now  at  the  gates  of  Rome, 
Sends  on  an  Herald  to  the  magiftrates, 
The  confuls,  and  the  prefect  of  the  city, 
The  army,  fenate,  and  the  Roman  people, 
Demand  an  audience  in  Edoxia's  name, 
And  offers  terms,  on  which- fam'd  Rome  may  yield 
To  Genferic,  and  his  all  conquering  fword. 

He  comes  to  refcue  from  the  ufurper's  arm, 
The  remnant  of  the  Theodofian  line  ; 
Chafe  from  the  throne  the  traitor  Maximus, 
And  fave  the  daughter  of  his  great  ally  ; 
Give  Italy  a  king  of  more  reknown, 
Or  change  the  feat  of  empire  from  old  Rome. 
SENATOR. 

Tell  mighty  Genferic,  Petronius  yields, 
Appall'd  and  frighten'd  at  his  potent  name. 
He  left  the  city,  fick  of  life  and  empire  ; 
No  more  ambitious  of  ihe  world's  applaufe, 
He  wifh'd  to  hide  beyond;  the  rapid  Rhine  ; 
But  fate  forbad— a  bold  Burgundian  chief, 
Arrefted  his  career,  and  cleft  him  down,. 
Amidft  the  cries  of  citizens  and  friends, 
Of  foes  to  Rome,  and  of  Edoxia's  flaves. 
His  body,  mangled  by  a  thoufand  wounds,  - 
Was  thrown  contemptuously  from  Tyber's  bank.1 

[Exeunt* 

G*  S.C.E.N.E 


75  THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

SCENE        II. 

Opens  and  difco<vcrs  the  ChJzens  in  great  Confufton — LEO  at 
the  Head  of  a  ProceJJion  of  Prlefts,  Senators  and  Nobles^ 
meet  GENSZRIC  infuppliant  poflures9  without  the  Palace, 


ED< 


LEO. 


)OXIA  fends  all  health  to  Genferic,. 
Her  friend — her  royal  brother,  and  demands 
Protection  for  the  imperial  houfe  : 
That  no  rough  foot  approach  the  palace  gate,. 
Or  hoftile  arm  to  plunder,  or  invade, 
The  royal  daughters,  or  the  wife  of  Csefar. 

GENSERIC. 

Tell  her  that  Genferic  himfelf  will  hafte,. 
To  guard  the  princefles  and  Cacfar's  wife. 

LEO. 

She  begs  repofe  after  the  furious  ftorm  ;. 
And  thy  permifiion  to  be  left  retir'd, 
To  weep  awhile  the  deftiny  of  Rome  ;    ' 
To  pour  the  balm  of  pity  on  the  breaft 
Of  virgin  forrow — to  lift  the  drooping  head 
Of  undifTembled  grief — hung  like  the  lily 
O'er  the  wafted  vale — when  the  rough  furgeV 
Roaring  deluge  fweeps  down  all  around, 
Except  the  naked  bloom — proplefs  and  weak, 
And  quivering  on  the  marge  of  the  next  tide — 
Whofe  wat'ry  wave  may  wafh  the  broken  fragment 
From  its  natal  foil. 

GENSERIC. 

Hymenial  longs  mult  cheer  thefe  drooping  maids — 
They  each  (hall  choofe  a  Goth  or  Vandal  lord, 

And 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME.- 

And  rale  the  lineage  of  the  Roman  name 
In  the  warm  grots  of  Afdruhal  and  Hanno, 
For  which  their  anceftors  in  Carthage  bled, 
And  armies  perifh'd  in  the  Lybiaa  lands. 

LEO. 

Now  thou  art  mafter  of  the  Roman  world^ 
Let  clemency  befpeak  thee  more  a  king," 
Than  all  thy  triumphs  o'er  fubjecled  Rome. 

GENSERIC. 

The  multitude  difarm'd — I  leave  their  lives  ;.; 
Plebeian  flaves  may  tremble  and  retire  ; 
But  all  of  noble  or  patrician  blood,. 
Of  ev'ry  age  and  fex,  my  prifoners^are. 

Go  thou,  and  tell  the  emprefs  to  prepare, 
Firft,  to  receive  her  fovereign  in  the  palace — 
Then  with  her  daughters,  follow  him  to  Carthage. 

[Exeurtfo 


SCENE       III. 

£  D  O  X I  A  and  LEO  in  the  Imperial  Palace* 

LEO. 

X1  ORTUNE  ingulphs  thy  family  and  throne^ 
Beneath  her  ihifting  tide  they're  floating  down, 
And  for  thine  houfe  my  foul  in  anguilh  bleeds  j 
The  capitol — thy  crown — and  freedom  loft — 
Thy  daughters  feiz'd,  Placidia  borne  away, 
And  made  the  miftrefs  of  a  Gothic  lord, 
And  Genferic  himfelf  is  near  the  palace, 
With  hefts-  of  Vandals  crowding  in  the  rear. 

EDOXIA-, 


f *  THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

EDOXIA. 

No  more — death  to  my  eyes — the  tyrant  comes— 
The  chains  prepar'd — I  hear  the  (hackles  clank. 
Arife  ye  furies,  from  Tartarus'  gulf, 
And  drag  him  peace  meal,  to  the  infernal  (hades. 
Enter  GENS  ERIC. 

Hah  !  traitor,  is  it  thus  thou  meet^ft  Edoxia  ? 
Rob'd  of  her  crown— a  homager  to  thee— • 
Strip'd  of  her  robes — her  diadem  and  wealth, 
And  rudely  bid  to*  quit  my  native  clime,- 
Still  more  to  fwell  thy  fierce  and  favage  pomp  : 
The  princefTes  infulted — and  enflav'd — - 
By  vulgar  hands  drag'd  to  the  Vandal  tent. 

Oh  !  burft  my  heart — and  let  my  eye  firings  breakj 
Let  furious  billows  fwallow  up  his  fleet, 
And  darknefs  cover  nature  in  the  wreck, 
Ere  I  obey,  and  fee  my  houfehould  train, 
Lag  at  the  feet  of  his  triumphal  car. 

GENS  ERIC. 

A  milder  tone  becomes  a  captive  queen, 
At  whofe  requeft 'invaded  and  filbdu'd, 
Rome  proftrate  lies  beneath  her  conquering  lord. 

EDOXIA. 

Ah1!  what  a  contrail:  to  the  fplendid  tale 
Of  Roman  greatnefs — her  illuflrious  fame. — 

GENSERIC. 

Empire  decays  when  virtue's  not  the  bafe, 
And  doom'd  to  periih  when  the  parts  corrupt. 

EDOXIA. 

My  foul's  as  hot  with  rage,  remorfe,  revenge,  , 
As  are  the  Lybian  fands  when  Sirius  reigns, 
Or  the  thrice  heated  fummer  folflice  burns. 

GENSERIC. 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME.  8 

GENSERIC. 

Then,  to  confole  and  mitigate  thy  rage, 
I'll  hafte  to  Tunis  with  the  illuftrious  throng, 
Where  Hunneric,  my  fon,  fliall  wed  Eudocia. 
EDOXIA. 

Oh  !  dreadful  threat — feverer  far  than  death. 
Where  are  the  facred,  celebrated  fhades, 
Who  wafh'd  the  ftains  from  chafte  Lucretia's  fame 
In  red  libations  from  a  tyrant's  heart — 
Oh  !  (Lield  Eudocia — fnatch  her  from  defpair. 
Refcue  a  haplefs,  chafie,  and  friendlefs  maid 
From  bafe,  abandon'd,  proftituted  flaves  ! — 
GENSERIC. 

Fix'd  as  the  fates  that  roll  th'  etherial  orbs, 
I  now  forbid  a  murmur,  or  a  figh. 
EDOXIA. 

Thou  may 'ft  forbid  the  morning  fnn  to  rife  j 
Bid  ocean  ceafe  to  lave  the  pebbled  more, 
Or  Roman  fouls  to  mix  with  Vandal  flaves, 
And  be  obey'd — ere  fighs  are  hufh'd, 

Or  execrations  ceafe. • 

GENSERIC. 

Each  chief  has  feiz'd  a  princely  Roman  dame, 
The  booty's  fafe,  and  profperous  gales  invite  j 
And  now  my  guards  efcort  the  emprefs  on. 
EDOXIA. 

What  !  thus  commanded  in  imperious  ftrains, 
To  hade  from  Rome  to  Africk's  fcorching  realms, 
Where  Tophet  gapes  and  flaughter'd  infants  cry, 
By  thoufands  offer'd  their  infernal  gods  : — 
Jehovah  !  why  do  all  thy  thunders  deep — 
While  each  black  crime  the  demons  perpetrate, 

Is  afted  o'er  by  this  infernal  race. 

GENSERIC. 


3*  THE  SACK  OF  ROf 

GENSERIC. 

Slaves,  haften  on,  and  feize  your  royal  charge, 
And  guard  her  fafe  to  Carthagena's  coaft. 
EDOXIA. 

Down  on  my  head  th'  avenging  gods  have  pour'V. 
Each  curfe  the  houfe  of  Hannibal  could  frame, 
Or  vanquinYd  Carthage  utter  in  defpair, 
For  all  the  wrongs,  oppreflion,  and  difgrace, 
By  haughty  Rome^  inflicted  on  her  fens. 

Now  ye  ftern  fouls,  ye  venerated  Shades, 
Heroes  who  fell  on  Zama's  routed  plains — 
Look  down  and  triumph,  vengeance  is  compleat. 
Behold  the  laft  of  the  Horatian  line, 
Sent  to  the  margin  of  the  burning  plains, 
The  tawny  front  of  Afric's  blacken'd  tribes, 
To  ftarid  an  exil'd  flave — to  rave  and  weep 
The  lofs  of  empire  and  the  fall  of  Rome, 
Amidft  Numidia's  fa-nds  and  footy  fons. 

But  thanks  to  Heav'n,  the  emprefs  of  the  weft 
Kas  yet  the  means,  and  will  an  emprefs  die. 

[Dratuf  a  conceal* d  pQignard,  and  attends  to  jlab  bevfelf. 
GENSERIC. 

Slaves,  feize  her  hand — me  mufl  not  die — 
'Twill  half  defeat  the  triumph  of  the  day. 
EDOXIA. 

Enough  of  life  and  all  life's  idle  pomp — 
Nor  by  a  tyrant's  fiat  will  I  live— 
I  leave  the  bufy,  vain,  ambitious  world 
To  cheat  itfelf  anew^  and  o'er  and  o'er 
Tread  the  fame  ground  their  anceftors  have  trooy 
In  chace  of  thrones,  of  fceptres,  or  of  crowns, 
'Till  all  thefe  bubbles  break  in  empty  air, 
Nor  leave  a  trace  of  happinefs  behind. 

is  I  ft/  off  in  golden  ck 
GENSLRIC 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME.  « 

*VjENSERIC,/rc/H  the  Palace  Gates, gives  Orders  to  the  Van 

dal  Tsoops. 

Down  with  the  Roman  eagles,  ftatues,  temples, 
Monuments  of  fame — their  trophies  tear  : — 

"Strip  all  the  veftments  from  their  ancient  gods — 
Their  pageant  heroes  level  with  the  duft, 
And  rafe  their  names  from  memory  and  time» 
The  golden  (brines  and  faintly  relicks  feize  ; 
Both  gilded  butts  and  roofs  of  bronze  deftroy.j 
The  branches,  tables,  candleilicks  of  gpld, 
In  oftentation  (hewn  by  Jewiih  priefts, 
And  in  triumphal  pomp  transfer'd  to  Rome, 
With  all  the  treafures  of  Zenobia's  houfe, 

TalmyraVwealtb,  and  Afia's  fpoils,  fecure — 
And  teach  the  naked  capital  to  weep, 
Her  long  arrearages  to  all  mankind, 
For  plunder'd  nations,  eities,  kingdoms,  climes* 
What  has  this  mighty  Roman  name  to  boaft  ? 
*Tis  time  to  rafe  her  from  the  lift  of  nations, 
And  blaft..the  world  no  more  by  Roman  crimes- 
Then  plead  prefcription,  as  'twas  done  by  Rome. 
Break  up  their  fountains,  poifon  all  their  baths, 
Ere  they  contaminate  the  Vandal  troops 
With  foft,  effeminate,  luxurious  (loth  ? 
Ranfack  each  church,  and  pillage  all  the  city, 
Nor  leave  a  drachma  round  the  feven  hills. 

[Extant, 


SCENE 


THS  SACK  OF  ROME. 
SCENE        IV. 

H  U  N  N  E  R  I  C  and  T  R  A  U  L  I  S  T  A. 


I 


HUNNERIC. 


.F  or  ambition,  wealth,  or  airy  fame, 
VCould  footh  to  reft,  my  foul  would  be  at  eafe  ; 
But  yet  fome  fecret  heavinefs  I  feel, 
••  Ne'er  felt  before,  that  rankles  at  the  heart, 
.And  blafts  the  joys  of  victory  and  conqueft. 

TRAULISTA. 

The  world,  and  all  its  treafures  at  command  j 
And  beauty,  emulous  to  win  thy  love — 
What  can  difturb  thy  peace  ? 

HUNNERIC. 

Eudocia — the  lovely,  weeping,  tender,  fair  Eudocia— - 
She  is  my  prize — my  prifoner — my  wife — 
Yet  every  motion  of  her  eye  appals  ; 
And  when  (he  fpeaks,  I  like  a  ftatue  flare, 
Unable  to  reply,  or  to  withdraw. 

TRAITLISTA. 

Thefe  Roman  maids  have  fome  enchanting  arts, 
That  bend  the  boldeft  warrior  to  their  fmiles  j 
Yet  they  are  not  fo  cold  as  they  may  feem. 

HUNNERIC. 

She  holds  me  by  fome  fafcinating  tie, 
Spite  of  my  prowefs,  or  fuperiour  ftrength  : 
Did  the  celeftial  deities  combine 
To  form  her  thus  ? — Her  image  makes  me  hate 
The  wanton  beauties  of  our  amorous  clime* 
In  her  majeftick  prefence,  I'm  as  tame, 

As 


THE  SACK  OK  ROME.  85 

As  the  young  lambkin  in  the  fliepherd's  cot  ; 
I  fcarcely  move  .me,  left  I  fliould  offend  ; 
It  may  be*love — I  fear  it  is — 
Yet  fpurn  it  from  my  thought — yes,  I  adore, 
My  worfhip  is  profound — my  veneration  fuch 
I'm  tenfold  more  a  Have  than  is  the  princefs. 
TRAULISTA. 

Perhaps,  fome  darling  favourite  indulg'd, 
May  find  Eudocia  foft  as  yielding  air, 
Though  frozen  to  the  blandifliments  of  love — 
Cold  as  the  Scythian  mows  to  thine  embrace  ; 
Yet  I  could  let  a  fatal  fecret  out, 
Would  give  a  clue  to  wake  her  paffions  up. 
HUNNERIC. 

Ah  !  fay  Tratilifta  ; 
Half  my  booty  mall  be  thy  reward  ; 
And  fifty  captives  of  the  faireft  dames 
Shall  fwell  thy  haram  to  the  eaflern  ftilc. 
TRAULISTA. 

Know,  all  the  fex  I  equally  defpife  ; 
And  did  fome  bufy  demon  wake  a  wifl> 
To  toy  and  trifle  with  fome  matchlefs  fair, 
I'd  puff  it  off;— if  I  could  blufh,  the  thought 
Would  burn  my  cheek. — Give  me  a  Roman  province, 
Or  give  an  army  to  patrole  the  empire, 
To  rid  the  world  of  their  patrician  pride, 
Or  yet  more  turbulent  plebeian  blood, 
That  has,  for  more  than  thirteen  hundred  years, 
Plagu'd  ail  mankind  with  their  ambitious  fires, 

HUNNERIC. 

Not  lefs  than  thee,  I  hate  the  Roman  name  : 
Command  thy  terms — though  they're  to  govern  Rome, 
To  wear  a  crown — to  reign  in  Gaul  or  Spain  : 

H  Both 


SC  THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

Both  by  the  crofs,  and  by  the  ancient  gods, 
iiere  is  my  fignet — claim  thine  own  reward. 

TRAULISTA.. 

What  if  within  this  garden  lies  conceal'd 
The  rival  of  thy  love  ? 

HUNNERIC. 

The  game  more  eafy — more  fecure  the  prey : 
By  all  the  blood  Genferic's  arm  has  fpilt, 
The  traitor  dies  before  the  morning  dawns. 

TRAULISTA. 

Belov'd  and  favour'd  by  the  fair  Eudocia, 
The  brave  Gaudentius  waits  to  bear  her  off. 

HUNNERIC. 
Hah  !  the  fon  of  ./Etius  ? — thy  valiant  friend  ? 

TRAULISTA. 

He  once  prefum'd  to  call  his  friend  a  traitor, 
And  thinks  that  mine  is  fuch  a  milky  foul 
.As  to  forgive — 'tis  not  a  foldier's  trade  : 
.My  fword,  my  arm,  aveng'd  his  bleeding  fire, 
Nor  (hall  the  fon  ungratefully  defy 
That  fword — that  prowefs — that  decided  ftrenglh 
Rome's  legions  fear,  and  trembling  armies  fly. 
But  yet  I  bid  refentment  fleep  awhile, 
'Till  all  was  ripe  an  empire  to  fubvert — 
I  fcorn  to  play  at  alefs  noble  game. 
I  rais'd  Petronius  to  the  imperial  throne  ; 
But  he,  ungrateful,  indolent  and  weak, 
At  once  forgot  Hermannie's  noble  fon  ; 
With  vulgar  princes  rank'd  him  as  a  Have  : 
'The  emprefs  faw,  and  wanted  fuch  an  arm, 
To  back  the  rage  that  rankled  in  her  bread, 
And  rid  her  of  Gaudentius,  who'd  refus'd 


THE  SACK  OF  'ROMS', 

To  be  her  friend  and  confident  to  thee. 
He,  raging  mad  with  patriotick  pride, 
Refign'd  his  love  at  freedom's  f acred  foot, 
Dtfgufted — nrg'd  agalnft  her  fix'd  defign, 
And.  arm'd  at  once  againft  the  Vandal  king. 

She  bade  me  hope,  as  my  reward,  her  daughter-;-*- 
But  I've  no  wifli  the  princefs  to  pofTefs  ; 
Yet  my  ambition  burns  to  reign  in  Horns. 

HUNNERIC. 

Nail  this  Gaudentius  to  fome  graffy  plot 
And  thou  fhall  triumph  in  the  capitol. 

TRAULISTA. 

This  night  is  friendly  to  revenge  and  death  : 
Between  the  gloom  of  midnjght  and  the  dawn, 
Tuft  light  enough  beneath  the  cypiefs  made 
To  track  the  heedlefs  lover  on  his  way  : 
Yet  could'ft  thou  in  Eudocia's  prefence  draw, 
And  lay  her  lover  bleeding  at  her  feet  ? 
When  fhe  to  heaven  ere6ts  her  lily  hand, 
In  all  the  beauteous  agony  of  grief, 
Heaves  up  her  fnowy  bread,  and  fights — GAUDENTILTS  ! 

HUNNERIC. 

'Tv/ould  fweeter,  my  revenge,  and  (teal  my  heart, 
To  drag  her  infiant  to  my  flighted  bed. 

TRAULISTA. 

Then  on  and  feafl  thre  vith  the  lufcious  fight  ; 
A  triumph  worthy  of  a  Vandal  prince, 

\Exeunt, 


S  C  E  N  K 


Si  THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

SCENE       V. 

A  Grotto  in  the  Garden  cftke  Palace— -EUDOCIA  folus— . 
GAUDENTIUS  approaching. 

GAUDENTIUS. 

JL  HESE  are  the  grots,  the  fucred  filent  walks, 
Where  my  Eudocia  wanders  from  the  world. 

Methinks  I  "hear,  within  yon  rofeate  bower, 
Some  plaintive  angel's  foft  harmonious  voice  : 
Perhaps,  her  guardian  goddefs  down  defcends, 
From  yontler  filvern  cloud  capt  mountain's  brow, 
To  watch  her  beauteous  charge. (Lifiens.) 

EUDOCIA  ivhhin,  hi  a  foft ,  plaintive,  agonizing  voice, 

Oh  !  feme  kind  feraph  fnatch  my  foul  away, 
And  fhroud  my  griefs  beneath  the  peaceful  tomb  ; 
Or  mud  a  dagger  ope  a  paflage  hence, 
To  Jet  me  free  from  Hunneric's  embrace  > 
GAUDENTIUS. 

'Tis  fiie  herfelf — 'tis  her  fymphonious  voice  : 
The  murmuring  maid  in  broken  accents  fighs  j 
'Tis  my  Eudocia  whifpcring  to  her  God. 

\_Entsrs  the  Grofft. 

Let  not  thofe  fighs  tear  up  an  angel's  bread  ; 
Nor  let  the  wreck  of  empire  ftrike  too  deep. 
EUDOCIA. 

Hah  ! — who  art  thou  that  boldly  dares  intrude 
On  the  lafl  hour  of  this  my  ftiil  retreat  ? 
Some  fpy  of  Hunneric's,  to  watch  my  fteps, 
Left  one  (hort  moment  of  repofe  I  find, 
This  laft  lad  night,  ers  I'm  completely  curs'd. 

GAUDENTIUS. 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME.  89 

GAUDENTIUS. 

May  all  the  powers  who  guard  the  good  and  juft 

Protect  my  princefs  ! — 

EUDOCIA. 

Hah  !  my  belov'cl  Gaudentius  !-— 
Doft  thou  yet  live,  through  all  the  perils 
Of  a  barbarous  fiege,  to  fee  Eudocia 
Snatch'd  from  thy  lov'd  arms  ? — Alas  !  my  fate, 
To  what  a  hated  rival  am  I  doom'd  ! 
GAUDENTIUS. 
I  had  not  liv'd  but  for  Eudocia's  fake. 

EUDOCIA. 

Yet  fave  a  life  much  dearer  than  my  own  ; 
Nor  linger  here,  'tis  on  the  verge  of  death  : 
Leave  me  to  perifh  in  my  country's  fall. 

GAUDENTIUS. 

Not  all  the  clangor,  or  the  din  of  arms, 
Or  roughen'd  tempefts,  whofe  impetuous  blafts, 
In  fiery  bolts,  may  rive  the  mountains  up, 
Again  ihali  tear  me  from  my  lov'd  Eudocia. 

EUDOCIA. 

My  lips  can't  utter,  nor  my  tongue  exprefs, 
The  anguifh  that  my  tortur'd  foul  endures  : 
'Twas  early  duty  nurs'd  my  infant  love, 
And  ftricleft  virtue  fanftifi'd  the  flame, 
'Till  Valentinian  fell — alas  !  no  more  ; 
Nature — religion — reafon — filial  love, 
Forbid  a  union  with  the  fon  of  ./Etius. 

GAUDENTIUS. 

My  brain  grows  hot — it  kindles  to  diffraction— 
This  night  fecures  my  blifs — or— certain  death. 

EUDOCIA. 

Oh  !  live  Gaudentius — live  for  Rome's  defence  5 
Nor  rob  thy  country  of  fo  brave  an  arm. 

H  2  Net 


<>o  THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

Not  crowns,  or  fceptres,  or  the  world  befides, 
Has  aught  to  balance  with  my  love  for  thee  ; 
Yet  urge  no  more — fly  hence  and  fuve  thyfelf— 
One  parting  figh — one  folemn,  laft  adieu — 
Then,  for  thy  country's  fake,  forget  Eudocia. 

GAUDENTIUS. 

Not  till  the  pulfe  of  life  forgets  to  play, 
And  death's  cold  dews  pervade  my  quivering  lip,. 
Within  this  garden  will  I  find  a  grave, 
Unlefs  my  princefs  dares  an  enterprife, 
Which  loft  this  night,  may  never  more  return  j 
I  muft  attempt  thy  refcue  ere  the  morn. 

EUDOCIA. 
In  what  new  horror  would  this  fcene  involve  ? 

GAUDENTIUS. 

Aroufe  thy  noble  fortitude  of  mind — 
*Tis  the  decifive  hour — the  next  fubjecls 
To  Hunneric's  embrace. 

EUDOCIA. 

Not  all  that  nature  fliudders  at  in  death, 
Has  half  the  terrors  that  his  name  conveys  ; 
Oh  !  fave,  if  poflible — prevent  my  fate. 

GAUDENTIUS. 
Then  fly  with  me  from  mifery  fupreme. 

EUDOCIA. 

The  port  of  Offia's  Hint — and  all  the  feas 
Fill'd  with  Genferic's  fierce  piratic  flaves  : — 
Where  can  the  wretched  fly  ? 

GAUDENTIUS. 
Fly  any  where  from  Hunneric  and  death. 

EUDOCIA. 
Alas !  my  heart— my  weak,  my  wavering  heart  \ 

GAUDENTIUS. 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME.  $, 

GAUDENTIUS. 

Come,  let  us  move  to  yonder  fmall  alcove  ; 
The  brave  Traulifla,  whom  Genferic  trufts, 
Mod  fortunately  heads  the  nightly  watch, 
Patroles  the  ports  until  the  morning  dawns  ; 
The  moment  that  the  midnight  bell  refounds, 
He  brings  a  Vandal  garb  for  my  Eudocia, 
And  aids  our  flight  to  the  Tarentine  fea. 

EUDOCIA. 

Traulifta  !— I  like  not  this  Traulifta— 
Traulifta  has  a  rough,  a  favage  foul, 
Wrought  up. to  treaibns  of  the  darkeft  hu?. 

GAUDENTIUS. 
His  life  he  owes  to  .lEtius  and  myfelf. 

EUDOCIA. 

But  gratitude  can  never  bind  the  bafe  5 
An  infidel  to  God — there  is  no  tie — 
No  principle  to  bind  a  worthlefs  heart. 

GAUDENTIUS. 
Hs  is  my  friend  -r  come,  diffipate  diftrufL 

EUDOCIA. 
A  thcufand  fpeclres  ftare  on,  every  fide. 

GAUDENTIUS, 
Let's  lofe  no  time,  nor  let  thy  fears  retard  ; 

[He  offers  to  lead  her  out  of  the  BoTt'tr* 
The  hazy  moon  enwraps  her  tranquil  face, 
And  hides  behind  a  thin  tranfparent  cloud, 
Left  Ihe  betray,  by  her  refplendent  beam 
Thy  trembling  flep — the  terror  in  thy  eye. 

[M&ving  fortbty  on, 
EUDOCIA. 
Methinks  I  hear  feme  fpeedy  foot  advance. 

[She  Jlarts  back, 
GAUDENTIUS, 


$*  THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 

GAUDENTIUS. 
My  generous  friend  anticipates  the  hour. 

EUDOCIA. 
Lie  ftill,  my  heart — 

Nor  burft  the  brittle  cafement  of  my  br^afh 
Enter  SERVANT. 

SERVANT. 

Away,  my  lord — fly  to  the  thickeft  fliadt% 
Or,  ere  thou  can:ft  efcape,  thou  art  undone. 

GAUDENTIUS.. 
Hah  !  betray 'd  !— 

SERVANT. 

Two  ruffians  arm'd,  crawl  round  th'e  citron  walk — 
They  nam'd  Gaudentius — I  ftay'd  to  hear  no  more — 
But  rufh'd — and  mot  acrofs4he  darken 'd  grove, 
To  ferve  the  princefs  and  to-fave  my  lord. 

GAUDENTIUS. 

Alas  !  my  faithful  Cafiio — thou'rt  too  late, 
Yet  as  a  foldier  will  I  fell  my  life. 

Enter  HUNNERIC  and  TRAULTSTA. 
[GAUDENTIUS  makes  a  furious  pafs  and  mortally 
TRAULISTA.] 
TRAULISTA. 
Death  to  my  hopes — damnation  to  his  hand  !— 

GAUDENTIUS. 

Oh  !  heavens  !  Traulifta — art  thou  the  villain- 
Traitor — daftard — Have — lurking  in  fecret, 
To  betray  thy  friends  ? 

TRAULISTA. 
Coward,  come  on — > 

To  brave  in  words  thou  may 'ft  a  dying  man  j 
Yet  know  I've  life  enough  to  dafh  to  hell, 
And  fend  thy  puny  foul  to  Pluto's  fhades, 
For  daring  once  to  threat  Traulifla's  life. 

GAUDENTIUS 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME.  ^ 

GAUDENTITJS. 

High  heaven  has  levell'd  at  thy  treacherous  heart 
The  fatal  ftroke  that  juftice''  hand  demands. 

TRAULISTA. 

Now  are  there  deities  or  devils — ghoft's  or  gods, 
I'd  thank  them  all  had  he  have  dy'd  before  me. 
My  eye  balls  fink — my  ftifFen'd  fibres  fail  ! — 
Hafte,  Charon — with  thy  boat — and  fet  me  o'er 
The  Stygian  pool — blot  out  this  being — 
'Tis  a  curfe  to  man — yet  if  thefe  Romans  live 
In  other  worlds,  I  would  exifl  again, 
To  chafe  them  from  Elyfium,  as  from  Rome.          [Difs* 

HUNNERIC. 

Seize  this  young  furious  prince,  and  on  the  rack  [To  &:$ 
Extend  each  limb — with  heated  pincers  tare,  Guards. 
'Till  I  have  time  to  find  new  tortures  out. 

GAUDENTIUS. 

Not  thee,  nor  death,  nor  tortures  do  I  fear, 
Would  angel  guards  and  ministers  of  fate 
Firft  {'catch  Eudocia  from  thy  loath'd  embrace—  • 
Yet  know,  Gaudentius  dies  not  as  a  flave. 

[He  ruJheP  forward  and  engages  HUNNERIC,  ivh 
•mortally  iniounds  him. — EUDOCIA  runs  betiusen 
tkeirfwordS)  and  offers  her  breaft  to  HuNNERIC,] 

EUDOCIA. 

Strike  here,  moil  noble  Hunneric — end  my  pain- 
Now  if  thy  foul  can  do  one  generous  deed 
Emancipate  thy  prifoner — enhance  the  gift — 
Nor  like  a  niggard  do  thy  work  by  halves  ; 
Eut  let  me  die  with  him,  my  life,  my  lord, 
My  hufband,  my  Gaudeatius. 

HUNNERIC. 
No,  my  Eudocia,  live — thou  art  my  queen. 

EUDOCIA, 


4,4  THE  SACK  OF  ROME, 

F-UDOCIA. 

If  IieH's  dark  empire  had  a  charm  for  me, 
Then  I  might  wifli  to  be  the  Vandal  queen. 

GAUDENTIUS. 
Adieu,  my  fair — adieu,  my  lov'd  Eudocia — 

Adieu  to  glory,  empire  and  renown  ! — [Falk. 

EUDOCIA. 

Oh  f  flay  Gaudentius — let  me  afiuage.  thy  wounds* . 
Support  thy  drooping  head  one  moment  more — 
Then  I  accompany  my  much  lov'd  lord.       [She fafati*. 

HUNNERIC. 

Slaves,  bear  her  off— thefe  are  the  fex's  tricks — 
While  her  fond  eyes  hang  on  her  paramour 
She'll  play  them  o'er,  and  weep,  and  figh,  and  rave> 
And  faint  again — yet  cannot  die  with  grief — 
But  in  mine  arms  (he'll  fink  an  eafy  bride. 

EUDOCIA. 

Heaven  blot  from  time  that  curs'd,  that  blafled  hour  f 
[  The  guards  attempt  to  force  her  from  the  forffe  of 

GAUDENTIUS.] 

Off  murderers — nor  tear  me  from  his  corpfe — 
Let  me  come  near — if  flill  he  breathes, 
And  ftp  the  laft  foft  breath. — Ah  ;  he  is  dead  \ 
In  his  lad  fob — the  lad  of  Romans  died — 
Jiift  Heaven  is  kind — I  yet  fhall  die  with  him, 
My  throbbing  heart  almoft  forgets  to  beat — 
The  flow  pulfation  lags— I  fink— I  fall- 
Time  fhakes  the  glafs  to  fift  out  my  laft  fands— 
Virtue,  fublim'd  by  piety  and  truth, 
Now  beckons  to  the  fkies — the  curtain  falls, 
And  opes  eternity*— I've  nought  to  afk 
Of  this  diftracled  world— but  juft  to  fhrowd 
In  the  fame  peaceful  tomb,  with  my  Gaudentius. — [Z>/>5» 

EPILOGUE 


EPILOGUE. 

JTOETS  and  heroes  travelling  from  b^me> 
for  perfect  models,  oft  repair  to  Rome  ; 
Tet  realproivefs,  or  true  fterling  tuif, 
Or  genius  there,  they  do  not  always  hit. 

They  had  their  bullies,  fycophants  andfools^, 
And  learned  dunces  in  Apcllo' s  fcheols  ; 
Their  poetajiers — pretty  playful  things, 
If  ho,  patronized  by  ladies,  or  by  kings, 
By  rules  logijlick,  reafon'd  truth  away, 
And  form' d  new  fyfiems  fit  for  each  new  d&r  ; 
Zealots,  or  bigots  to  their  fathers'  creed, 
As  infidels,  or  fajbion  gave  the  the  lead  i 
A  -proud  republick,  or  a.  fertile  throng, 
Aw'd  by  a  frown,  or  by  a  Nero's  fong  ; 
A  celebrated,  brave,  leroick  race, 
They'd  fave,  or  fell  their  country,  for  a  place. 
For  liberty — a  poor  untneaning  name, 
They /hook  the  globe,  and  fet  the  world  in  flatrif  : 
But,  factious,  fickle,  impious  and  boldt 
Enervated  by  luxury  and  gold, 
Te'<vefeen  extinguijh  'd — great  Apollo's  fire, 
Untun'd  his  harp,  and  broke  his  facred  lyre* 

But  in  this  age  of  literary  claim, 
When  tajle  and  genius  <vie  'with  Roman  fame* 
Like  them  ye' I  I  read,  and  candidly  excuje 
A  piece  dejign  d  for  pleafure  erf  or  ufe  ; 
Though  both  the  unities  of  place  and  time 
May'nt  always  tally  <witb  the  true  fublinle,. 
Nor  bufkin  merit  meet  the  mid  dayjky, 
A  female  bard  ftill  aftsyeur  candid  eye^ 

Sure 


9£  EPILOGUE 

Sure  the  politenefs  of  an  infant  nation 
Wont  damn  the  play,  and  hifs  it  out  of  fajjjion  ; 
.At  the  frft  reading  on  an  winter's  e*ve 
fray  cry  encore — a  fecond  may  retrieve, 
And  fa<ve  her  fame  from  entry  critick's  rage 
70  tread fecurely  on  Columbia's  ft  age. 

No  cenfuring  bards,  or  little  wits  foe  fears, 
If  ye  are  pleas' dy-and  Peter  Pindar  fpares. 
.  The  author  ajks  but  this  fmall  boon  of  you, 
Pray  let  it  pafs  at  leajl  a  night  or  two  j 
And  if  the  moral  in  this,  pious  age 
Should  let  it  live  a  week  upon  the  Jlage  ; 
Some  gambling  fools  fy  Maximus's  fate 
Might  learn  their  follies  ere  it  'was  too  late. 
Might  flay  at  home  and  fave  their  pretty  fpoufcs, 
And  horns  prevent  by  lodging  at  their  houfes. 
Others^  by  thinking,  might  be  .taught  .the  odds, 
*Tivixt  him  *uuho  fears  and  him  who  blafts  the  gods 
Jtfight  choofe  to  live  and  die  a  man  of  merit, 
Ere  he'd  be  damnd — an  infidel  of  fpirit  ; 
\But,  like  Trau lifta's,  let  their  follies  end, 
\Wbo  bajely  ba*vc  betray' d  or  fold  a  friend. 


THE 

LADIES  of  CASTILE. 

A 

TRAGEDY, 


I  N 


FIVE        ACTS. 


To  a  YOUNG  GENTLEMAN  in  E u  R o p  E,  at 
zvhofe    Requeft   a   regular    DRAMATIC^ 
WORK  -was firjl  attempted. 

MY    DEAR- SIR,, 

Y  OU  have  often  requefted  fome- 
thing  in  the  ilile  of  the  drama,  from  the 
hand  of  one  ever  fond  of  gratifying  her 
friends  ;  though  not  certain  whether  this 
requeft  arofe  from  a  love  of  literary  pro- 
du&ions  ;  from  a  curiofity  that  has  affec 
tion  for  its  bafis  ;  or  the  ftrong  attachment 
of  friendship  ;  yet  I  have  no  doubt  you  will 
be  pleafed  with  the  compliance. 

I  AM  fenfible  the  writing  an  unexcep 
tionable  Tragedy,  requires  judgement,  ge 
nius,  and  tafte  ;  and  have  felt  fuch  a  diffi 
dence  in  the  attempt,  as  nothing  would 
have  overcome  but  the  repeated  requeft  of 
a  very  dear  friend. 

THOUGH  the  piece  now  put  into  your 
hand  may  not  afford  equal  entertainment 
with  the  compofitions  of  a  Gorneille,  a 
Racine,  or  a  Crebillon,  yet  I  dare  fay, 
from  your  partiality,  you  will  find  pleafure 
in  your  clofet,  though  it  fhould  not  be  en* 
cored  on  the  ftage. 

YOU 


IOO 

You  have  never  named  me  a  fubjeft, 
though  you  prohibited  an  American,  and 
feetned  to  have  no  predilection  in  favour  of 
Britiih  incident ;  therefore, .notwithstanding 
events  in  the  weflern  world  have  outran 
imagination ;  notwithstanding  the  magni 
tude  of  profpecl:  a  rifmg  empire  difplays, 
and  the  many  tragical  fcenes  exhibited  on 
an  ifland  whence  it  derived  its  origin,  I  have 
recurred  to  an  ancient  flory  in  the  annals 
of  Spain,  in  her  laft  flruggles  for  liberty, 
previous  to  the  complete  eftablimment  of 
-defpetifm  by  the  family  of  Ferdinand. 

THE  hi  (lory  of  Charles  the  fifth,  the  ty 
ranny  of  his  fucceffors,  and  the  exertions  of 
the  Spanifh  Cortes,  will  ever  be  interening 
to  an  American  ear,  fo  long  as  they  triumph 
in  their  independence,  pride  themfelves  in 
the  principles  that  inftigated  their  patriots, 
and  glory  in  the  characters  of  their  heroes, 
\vhofe  valour  completed  a  revolution  that 
will  be  the  wonder  of  ages. 

WHAT  a  field  for  genius  !  What  a  did 
play  of  capacity,  both  in  fcience,  in  bufi- 
pefs,  and  in  politics,  does  this  revolution  ex 
hibit  !  Certainly,  enough  to  fire  the  ambi 
tion,  and  light  up  every  noble  fpark  in  the 
bofom  of  thofe  who  are  in  the  morning  of 
life. 

THE 


lot 

THE  nations  have  now  refheathed  the 
iword  ;  the  European  world  is  hu fried  in 
peace  ;  America  Hands  alone  : — May  fhefll 
long  (land,  independent  of  every  foreign 
power  ;  fuperiour  to  the  fpirit  of  intrigue, 
or  the  corrupt  principles  of  usurpation  that 
may  fpring  from  the  fuccefsful  exertions  of 
her  own  fons :— May  their  conduct  never 
contradict  the  profeffions  of  the  patriots 
who  have  afTerted  the  rights  of  human  na 
ture  ;  nor  caufe  a  bluili  to  pervade  the  cheek 
of  the  children  of  the  martyrs  who  have 
fallen  in  defence  of  the  liberties  of  their 
country » 

PERHAPS  the  fubjecl;  I  have  chofen  for 
the  machinery  of  a  tragedy,  may  be  more 
proper  for  an  epic,  than  a  dramatic  poem  ; 
yet  I  hope  it  will  be  acceptable  in  its  pref. 
ent  garb,  and  that  the  candor  of  the  public 
will  be  ^xercifed,  not  fo  much  for  the  fake 
of  the  fex,  as  the  defign  of  the  writer,  who 
wifhes  only  to  cultivate  the  fentiments  of 
public  and  private  virtue  in  whatfoever 
falls  from  her  pen. 

I  AM  mofl  affectionately,  Yours, 

M.  W. 

February  20,  1784. 


DRAMATIS 

I  2 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS. 

M  E  N. 
DON  VELASCO — Regent  of  Spam    in    tt'e    abfence    of 

Charles  fifth. 
CONDE  HARO—  Son  to  Velafco,  Commander  of  the  royal 

Army. 
DON  JUAN  DE   PADILLA-—  Commander  of  the  Troops 

raifed  by  the  States  of  Spain. 
DON  FRANCIS— Friend  to  Padilla,    Brother  of  Donna 

Maria,  in  love  'with  Lour] a. 
DON    PEDRO   GHIRON— a  young    Nobleman  in  love 

•with  Louifa. 

Z  AMOR  A— Bijbop  of  Toledo. 
SOCI-A — confidential  Servant  to  Don  Juan  de  Padilla, 

WOMEN. 
DONNA  MARIA— Wife  of  Don  Juan  de  Padilla,  Sifav. 

to  Don  Francis. 
DONNA  LOUISA— -Daughter  of  Don  Vdafco. 


THE 


L ADlES  of  CASTILE. 


ACT 


I. 


SCENE 

Near  Toledo. 


I. 


DON  JUAN  DE  PADILLA  and  DON  FRANCIS. 

DON  FRANCIS. 

HE  furious  courfer  lifts  his  dauntlefs  head, 
Fierce  fnaps  the  bit,  and  rolls  his  eye  abroad, 
Sees  death  and  carnage  mark  th'  empurpled  field, 
Neighs  for  his  pitey,  and  tramples  o'er  the  dead. 

The  happy  deed  may  bite  the  blood  ftain'd  ground^ 
Untaught  by  reafon,  fympathy  or  love — 
Unconfcious  of  the  pains — the  ten  fold  pangs, 
That  check  the  warrior  in  his  bold  career. 
DON  JUAN  DE  PADILLA. 
Methinks  fome  languor  hangs  about  thy  fteps, 
Too  like  defpair,  though  not  alli'd  to  fear  ; 

When 


134'    ,        TI-1E   LADIES-  OF  CASTILE. 

When  virtue  arms,  and  liberty's  the  prize, 

No  cloud  fliould  fet  on  brave  Don  Francis'  browv 

he  love  of  glory,  victory  and  fame, 
A  noble  fenfe  of  dignity  and  worth, 
Is-the  beft -birth  right  of  Caftilia's  fons  :— 
Inur'd  to  glory,  and  the  feats  of  war, 
Our  fathers  held  their  freedom,  from  the  gods. 
A  jealoufy  for  freedom  kept  alive 
Precludes  the  fofter  paflions  of  the  mind.: 
DON  FRANCIS. 

Nurs'd  in  the  fierce  and  hoftile  field  of  war, 
I,  from  long  anceftry,  may  boldly  claim 
That  innate  force  and  vigour  of  the  mind 
Which  mocks  the.fcnfe  of  danger  or  of  death  , 
But  yet  Louifa  wakes  my  foul  to  love. 
De  Haro's  filter  has  ten  thoufand  charms  f 
But  ah  ! — the  daughter  of  Velafco  chills, 
And  horror  opes  the  gates  of  wild'defpair, 
As  if  the  fates  forbad  a  diftant  hope. 

DON  JUAN  DTJ  PADILLA.- 

Spurn  thefe  foft  fetters — fly  the  fond  difguifc, 
Ere  it  unnerves  the  vigour  of  thine  arm — 
Let  freedom  be  the  miftrefs  of  .thy  heart  : — 
She  calls  to  arms,  and  bids  us  draw  the  fword  : — 
Gome,  clear  thy  brow,  and  whet  the  pointed  fteel, 
To  crufii  the  foes  of  liberty  and  Spain. 
DON  FRANCIS. 

I  would  fufpend,  but  ne'er  exterminate 
The  nobleft  paifion  of  the  human  foul  ; 
That  foftens  the  ferocious  bread  of  man, 
And  checks  the  ruder  billows  of  the  mind. 
DON  JUAN  DE  PADILLA. 

Not  like  the  lover,  but  the  hero  talk— 
The  fword  mud  rcfcue,  or  the  nation  fink. 

And 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.  105 

And  felf  degraded,  wear  the  badge  of  flaves. 
We  boaft  a  caufe  of  glory  and  renown  ; 
We  arm  to  purchafe  tjie  fublimeft  gift 
The  mind  of  man  is  capable  to  tafte. 
'Tis  not  a  factious,  or  a  fickle  rout, 
That  calls  their  kindred  out  to  private  war, 

With  hearts  envenom'd  by  a  thirft  of  blood — 

* 

Nor  burns  ambition,  rancour,  or  revenge, 
As  in  the  bo  Co  in  of  fome  lordly  chief 
Who  throws  his  gauntlet  at  his  fov'reign's  foot, 
And  bids  defiance  in  his  wanton  rage  : — 
Tis  freedom's  genitis,  nurs'd  from  age  to  age, 
Matured  in  fchools  of  liberty  and  law, 
On  virtue's  page  from  fire  to  fon  conveyed, 
E'er  fince  the  favage,  fierce,  barbarian  hords, 
Pour'd  in,  and  chas'd  beyond  Narvafia's  mount, 
The  hardy  chiefs  who  govern'd  ancient  Spain. 
Our  independent  anceftors  difdain'd 
All  fervile  homage  to  defpotick  lords. 

DON  FRANCIS. 

I  own  my  weaknefs — yet  forgive  my  love  j 
My  life  and  honour  facredly  I  plight, 
To  aid  a  brave  and  veteran  band  of  chiefs, 
Whofe  fathers  fearlefs,  dip'd  the  glittering  fword, 
Whet  with  revenge,  in  tides  of  Moorifh  blood, 
To  lave  their  fons  from  fervitude  and  chains. 

DON  JUAN  DE  PADILLA. 
But  we  have  not  a  moment's  time  to  lofe. 
The  pageant  mounted  on  his  gilded  car, 
Sweeps  all  the  fickle  multitude  along  : 
Inaction  or  delay  will  ruin  all, 
And  place  the  fav'rite  nurs'd  in  fortune's  lap, 
Beyond  the  reach  of  aught  but  heaven  itfelf, 

To 


T05  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE". 

To  teach  him  what  from  man  to  man  is  due. 
A  battle  ere  tomorrow's  fun  retires 
Shall  fhew  the  world  our  pedigree  and  fame  ; 
The  Celtiberian  race  mall  ne'er  be  fiaves, 

Nor  blufh  to  own  Don  Juan  for  their  fon. 

[Ex  cunt* 


SCENE      II. 

Palace  of  VE  L A  s  c  o . . 
Enter  DON  VELASCO  and  CONDE  HARD, 

DON  VELASCO. 

JL  HE  brighten'd  dawn  lifts  up  its  cheerful  face  ; 
The  fun  beams  play  to  lighten  thee  to  fame  ; 
The  hill  tops  fmile,  and  each  propitious  gale, 
Wafts  victory  onward,  with  expanded  wing, 
To  crown  the  glory  of  Velafco's  houfe. 

CONDE  HARO, 

Unhappy  Spain,  by  civil  factions  torn, 
Affaulting  friends,  while  foreigners  invade. 
Her  burning  cities,  and  her  reeking  fons, 
Are  drench 'd  in  blood,  our  valour  mould  protect  j- 
While  fierce  difdnion  fcowls  on  every  brow, 
And  rancour  whets  the  fword  againft  ourfelves, 
The  Turkiftvbanners  fpread  the  German  plains*. 
And  France,  refolv'd  to  humble  Charles's  pride,. 
Unites  the  crefcent  with  the  facred  crofs. 

DON  VELASCO. 

Francis  indeed  may  triumph  at  our  gates, 
Unlefs  Don  Jdan,  and  the  reftlefs  Cortes, 

AVe 


TilS  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.  107 

Are  foon  fubdu'd,  and  peace  reftor'd  to  Spain. 
One  glorious  conflict,  one  fuccefsful  day, 
Will  mew  the  world  the  heir  of  Ferdinand 
For  empire  born,  in  fpite  of  all  his  foes. 

CONDE  HARO. 

The  fword  is  drawn,  and  down  the  giilph  of  time, 
Perhaps,  its  ufelefs  fcabbard  may  be  tofs'd, 
'Till  years  roll  on,  and  revolution's  wheel 
Whirls  nations  down,  and  empire  fweeps  away, 
Ere  peace  benignant  fmiles  on  haplefs  Spain. 

DON  VELASCO. 
Then  lofe  no  time  to  crufh  this  rebel  race. 

CONDE  HARO. 

The  noblefl  blood  that  ancient  Spain  can  boaft, 
Thrills  through   their  veins,   and  warms   their  gallant 
With  great  ideas  of  liberty  and  law.  [chiefs 

They  claim  the  rights  their  ancient  fires  pofTefs'd, 
When,  ere  allegiance  fworn,  or  fealty  paid, 
They  bade  the  fov 'reign  recollect  the  claim, 
That  each,  as  good  by  nature  as  himfelf, 
Were,  when  united,  arm'd  with  power  replete, 
To  fmite  the  brow,  and  daft  the  fcepter'd  hand 
That  dare  invade  the  meaneft  fubject's  right. 

DON  VELASCO. 

'Tis  but  a  faflion 'of  cabal  and  ftrife, 
Bound  by  no  ties  of  dignity  or  worth  ; 
Devoid  of  honour,  difcipline,  or  faith  ; 
JDifcord  will  wafte,  and  jealoufy  divide, 
And  drive  them  backward  from  the  routed  field, 
Jifpers'd  by  thee,  as  dud  before  the  wind. 

CONDE  HARO. 

Inur'd  to  arms,  my  foul's  eftrang'd  to  fear.; 
Yet  I  lament  my  fate  j— my  fire  and  prince, 

Point 


I 

jog  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE. 

Point  me  to  glory,  combating  my  will, 
•  And  make  my  duty  lead  to  deeds  I  hate. 

This  conteft  is  no  democratic  rage, 
No  lewd  tumultuous  fury  juft  let  loofe — 
Dauntlefs  and  bold  as  fam'd  Numantia's  fons, 
They  wield  the  lance  and  bear  the  target  high, 
And  boaft  their  ancient  independent  race  ; 
Unfold  their  pedigree,  in  freedom's  line, 
E'er  fince  for  liberty,  the  haughty  Celts 
In  blood  contefted  with  the  furious  Goths. 

DON  VELASCO. 

Methinks  fome  latent  caufe  beclouds  thy  zeal 
And  checks  the  vigour  of  thy  val'rous  arm, 
Retards  thy  glory,  and  may  blaft  thy  fame. 

CONDE  HARO. 

Not  lefs  refolv'd,  or  fearlefs  than  thyfelf, 
No  tongue  fhall  e'er  reproach  thy  houfe  or  name 
With  glory  tarnifh'd,  by  De  Haro's  fall 
From  valour,  virtue,  dignity,  or  fame, 
DON  VELASCO. 

Then  hafte,  and  chafe  thefe  mifcreants  from  the  land- 
Cut  down  their  line,  and  blaft  their  idle  hopes, 
And  extirpate  the  bold  feditious  race. 
Their  houfes  wrap  in  one  devouring  flame — 
The  fword  fhall  quell  all  factions  in  the  land. 

CONDE  HARO. 

When  virtue's  vanquinYd,  juftice  bids  us  fpare, 
And  lend  compadion  to  an  haplefs  foe. 
I  ne'er  will  tinge  the  field  with  human  blood, 
If  milder  means  can  bloodlefs  viclory  win. 

DON  VELASCO. 
Adieu,  my  fon — my  foul  is  all  on  fire. 

Proud 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.  109 

Proud  glory  waits  to  make  thy  name  immortal, 
By  promis'd  triumphs  ere  the  morrow  clofe. 

DE  HARD. 

Urg'd  on  by  thee,  by  glory  and  renown, 
I'll  ferve  my  fov 'reign  as  a  foldier  ought, 
And  take  the  field  againft  my  former  friends, 
But  in  the  hero  ne'er  forget  the  man.  \Exeunt* 


SCENE       III. 

DON  JUAN  DE  PADILLA  and  DON  PEJ>RO.  | 

DON  JUAN. 


L  HE 


kingdoms  of  great  Ferdinand  are  left, 
To  hunt  for  crowns  in  Germany  and  France, 
While  here  Velafco  plunders  all  the  ftates. 
Our  delegates  have  yefterday  returned, 
Without  an  audience  at  the  fov 'reign's  court ; 
Stop'd  on  the  way — forbid  on  pain  of  death, 
With  their  complaints — their  idle  tales  of  wrong— 
T'  invade   the  regal  dignity  of  thrones, 
Or  whifper  murmurs  in  a  monarch's  ear. 
Refent merit,  and  a  noble  third  of  fame, 
Muft  roufe  the  bold,  reanimate  the  brave, 
And  brace  tfye  arm  with  vigour  to  repel 
Thefe  bolcl  invafions  on  great  nature's  rights. 

PEDRO. 

Has  then  the  band  of  Dutch  and  Flemifh  race, 
Who  hover  round,  clos'd  up  the  monarch's  ear, 
And  fteel'd  his  heart  againft  the  cries  of  Spain  ? 

K  Ambition 


1*0  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE, 

Ambition  low 'ring  on  a  lordly  brow 
May  yet  fubdue  the  citizens  of  Spain. 
DON  JUAN. 

Valencia  arm'd,  and  Arragon  arous'd, 
Hold  their's  and  Caftile's  righteous  caufe  the  fame. 
The  trump  of  war  is  echo'd  through  the  land, 
Wrought  up  to  tempefts  by  the  cruel  arm 
Of  bafe  oppreffion,  breaking  o'er  the  mounds 
Of  law — of  juftice — equity  and  truth. 
Is  thy  mind  firm — irrevocably  fix'd, 
Or,  to  fecure  the  facred  rights  of  Spain, 
Or  die  a  martyr  in  her  glorious  caufe. 
PEDRO. 

The  florm  beats  high — yet,  will  I  hazard  all, 
My  honour,  fortune,  freedom  and. my  fame  :  — 
I,  by  thy  fide,  all  danger  will  defy. 
DON  JUAN. 

Then  reconnoitre  round  De  Haro's  pofls  4 
The  noble  houfe  of  Albert's  overcome, 
Navarre's  fubdu'd — difmantled  all  her  towns — 
Peafants  and  nobles,  citizens  and  Haves, 
Promifcuoufly  enroll'd  in  Charles's  pay, 
Sullen  and  fierce,  difdain  th'  ignoble  fervice  : 
Ripe  for  revolt,  they,  at  my  fignet  join, 
And  lift.themfelves  in  a  more  noble  caufe  : 
P-repare  their  leaders  for  tomorrow's  work. 

'[Exeunt. 


SCENE 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.  n* 

SCENE        IV. 
DON  JUAN  DE  PADILLAW  DON  FRANCIS. 
FRANCIS. 


H 


.AST  thou  yet  feen  th*  unhappy  queen  of  Spain  ? 
The  vulgar  ear,  forever  caught  by  found, 
AllurM  by  pomp,  by  pageantry  and  (how, 
Revere  her  perfOn  and  adore  her  name  ; 
Her  ftandard  planted  on  the  field  of  war, 
Would  fan&ion  give  to  every  bold  defign. 

DON  JUAN. 

I  have  beheld  the  ruins  of  a  queen, 
A  fight  too  piteous  for  a  foldier's  eye — 
Whofe  heart,  unfteel'd  by  fcenes  of  human  woe, 
Has  yet  a  tender  corner  left  for  grief. 

Rob'd  of  her  crown,  authority  and  peace — 
Dethroned,  immur'd,  neglected  by  her  fon, 
Shut  up  in  widow 'd  folitude  to  weep 
Ungrateful  Philip,  who  defpis'd  her  charms, 
She's  but  the  weeping  image  of  defpair. 

FRANCIS. 

Does  (he  yet  know  the  miferies  of  Spain  ?— 
The  indignant  wrongs  and  injuries  we  feel, 
Beneath  the  reign  of  her  oppredive  fon  ? — 

DON  JUAN. 

She,  all  attentive,  liften'd  to  the  tale  ; 
And  rous'd  at  once  as  from  lethargic  dreams, 
And  ftarting,  cry'd — is  Ferdinand  no  more  !-— 
Is  that  great  monarch  fl  umber  ing  in  the  tomb, 
While  I,  a  wretched  prifoner  of  ftate, 
Stand  the  fad  monument  of  human  ills  ?— 

She 


in  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE. 

She  wept  and  figh'd,  till  firong  refentment  rofe, 
And  kindled  in  her  breaft  a  noble  flame. 

With  all  the  powers  of  eloquence  and  truth, 
I  ftrove  to  footh  her  wandering  mind  to  reft. 
Jn  juftice*  facred  name  I  urg'd  her  aid 
To  counteract  the  cruelties  of  Charles, 
To  reaflTume  her  rights,  and  reign  again, 
To  extricate  her  fubjedls  from  defpair  ;-— 
She  gave  a  fie  nt  with  dignity  and  eafe, 
And,  fpite  of  nature,  feeni'd  to  be  a  queen. 
I  nam'd  Calabria's  injur'd  noble  prince, 
The  heir  of  Arragon,  long  fmce  deprived 
Of  his  paternal  crown,  and  princely  rights, 
Which  Ferdinand,  by  violence,  had  feiz'd, 
And  juftice  bade  his  daughter  to  reftore  ; 
I  urg'd  her  marriage  with  fo  brave  a  prince, 
Entitled,  both  by  virtue  and  by  blood, 
To  wield  the  fceptre  that  his  fathers  won, 
And  fhield  her  perfon  from  all  future  wrongs  j 
But  naming  love,  her  dormant  pafiions  wak'd, 
And  kindled  up  her  former  flame  for  Philip  j 
She  funk  defpondent,  and  refus'd  to  aid, 
To  aft  in  council,  or  to  guide  the  realm. 

FRANCIS. 

"   Unhappy  queen  !  thus  to  her  people  loft. 
In  melancholy's  cell,  let  her  remain, 
While  her  fon  raves  at  large  about  the  world, 
Not  lefs  a  madman  than  the  Macedon, 
Who  kindled  up  the  Grecian  world  in  flame, 
And  rear'd  a  pile  o'er  all  his  murder'd  friends. 

DON  JUAN. 

She,  refcu'd  from  her  guards,  my  prifoner  is, 
And,  if  we  need,  her  fignet  is  obtain'd. 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.  113 

FRANCIS. 

But  malice  whifpers  murmurs  through  the  c?.mp, 
And  half  our  foldiers  clamour  for  their  pay — 
At  leaft  a  part,  before  they  take  the  field. 
DON  JUAN. 

Hafte  to  Maria,  whofe  undaunted  foul 
Reflects  a  luftre  on  her  feeble  fex  ; 
By  ftratagem,   (he's  gain'd  an  ample  fum 
To  quiet  mutiny,  and  pay  the  troops. 
But  ere  the  folemn  midnight  clock  fhall  flrike, 
Return,  and  meet  me  at  the  gate  of  Toro.          [Exeunt. 


SCENE      V. 

DON  FRANCIS  and  DONNA  MARIA, 

MARIA-. 

JL  O  make  atonement  for  the  guilt  of  men, 
Altars  Are  drefs'd,  and  faintly  relics  mine  : — 
Inftead  of  real  fanclity  of  heart 
They  churches  decorate  with  coftly  gifts  :— - 
But  reafon,  burfting  from  a  fable  cloud, 
On  a  bright  throne  erecls  her  regal  ftand, 
And  gives  new  fanclions  from  the  voice  of  God, 
To  free  the  mind  from  fuperftition's  reign. 

No  fables,  legends,  dreams,  or  monkifli  tales, 
Shake  my  firm  purpofe>  or  difarm  my  mind, 
When  duty  calls  to  make  my  country  free. 

The  churches'  treafures  were  our  laft  reforr, 
And,  join'd  by  all  the  matrons  of  my  train, 
In  weeds  of  woe,  and  fable  garments  drefs'd, 

K  2.  I  kneel'd: 


ii4  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE, 

I  kneel'd  before  the  confecrated  flirines, 
And  afk'd  a  blefling  on  my  country's  caufe  ; 
But  'twas  to  him  whofe  fanction  feals  the  claim, 
Of  peace  and  freedom  to  the  human  race, 
I  bow'd  my  foul,  and  rais'd  my  fuppliant  prayer, 
That  when  a  fpark  from  chaos'  womb  had  burft, 
And  light  diffus'd  o'er  all  the  vveftern  world, 
It  might  not  be  to  gild  a  tyrant's  car, 
And  make  mankind  the  pageants  of  his  will  j 
I  then  difmantied  all  the  facred  mrines. 
FRANCIS. 

Hah  ! — durft  thou  venture  on  fo  bold  a  deed  ! — 
Leap  prieftly  bounds — invade  the  churches'  rights— 
Difrobe  the  faints,  and  rifque  the  public  hate  ! — 
MARIA. 

Neceffity  muft  fanftify  the  deed. — 
FRANCIS. 

Thy  foul  was  form'd  to  animate  the  arm 
Of  fome  illuftrious,  bold,  heroic  chief, 
And  not  to  wafte  its  glorious  fire  away, 
Beneath  the  weaknefs  of  a  female  form. 
MARIA. 

Men  rail  at  weaknefTes  themfelves  create, 
And  boldly  ftigmatize  the  female  mind, 
As  though  kind  nature's  juft  impartial  hand 
Had  form'd  its  features  in  a  bafer" mould  : 
But  nice  diftinclions  in  the  human  foul, 
Adopted  follies,  sr  inherent  vice, 
May  be  diicufs'd  in  calmer  times  than  thefe  : — 
"We'll  reafon  then-^-ii*  poflible  regain 
Vvhau*??r  nan.jre,  or  its  author  gave. 
But  J^yn  wj»its,  and  fortune's  on  the  wing  : 
The  fickle  goddefs  waves  her  gloffy  plume, 

And 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE,  115 

And  holds  an  era  in  the  life  of  man, 
When  all  is  hung  fufpended  on  his  choice  ; 
Election  made,  judicioufly  he  (hinds 
On  the  proud  fummit  of  all  human  fame  ; 
But  judgment  once  erroneoufly  forni'd 
Oft  fixes  his  ill  fate  through  life's  career  ; 
While  a  ftrong  current  bears  him  down  the  tide^. 
And  wrecks  his  peace  on  every  ripling  ftream. 

The  morn  may  {mile  propitious  on  our  caufe — 
May  make  us  free,  or  more  completely  flaves  :— 
Unrive  the  manacles,  or  drive  the  bolts, 
And  clank  the  fhackles  round  the  Spanifh  world. 
Canft  thou  forget  the  foft  Louifa's  tears, 
And  chafe  her  brother  through  the  field  of  blood  ? 
Thou,  like  a  lion  leaping  on  his  prey, 
Muft  aim  thy  javelin  at  De  Haro's  heart. 
FRANCIS. 

Name  not  Louifa — I  would  forget  flie  lives—  f     "•%?. 
Or  that  fhe  is  the  fifter  of  my  foe. 
Miftaken  man  ! — he  deprecates  this  war 
That  lights  his  country  in  a  wafting  flame  j 
But  thinks  the  era  other  freedom  loft, 
Since  firft  Ximenes'  artful  fubtile  wiles, 
Threw  fuch  a  weight  in  the  defpotic  fcale  ; 
A  ftandbg  army  at  the  fov 'reign's  nod, 
Which  makes  the  monarch  matter  of  the  la\vs; 
And  gives  at  will  both  liberty  and  life. 
Yet  Conde  Haro  has  a  noble  foul, 
INor  is  leis  virtuous  than  truly  brave. 

MARIA. 

Virtue  muft  fpring  from  the  maternal,  line 
If  it  adorns  the  Conde  Haro's"  bread. 

DON 


n5  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE. 

FRANCIS. 

Tomorrow  proves  him  what  the  world  reports,. 
And  weaves  a  garland  to  adorn  his  brow, 
Or  leaves  his  trunk  a  headlefs  facrifice, 
To  ftamp  frelh  glory  on  Don  Juan's  name. 

MARIA. 

Go,  haften  on,  and  not  a  moment  lofe ; 
Remind  the  foldiers  of  Segovia's  rights — 
Review,  the  battles  fought  on  Ebro's  banks — 
Affure  them  all  is  fafe,  if  they're  but  brave. 
The  fword  maintains  what  their  forefathers  won. 

[Excurn 


ACT 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.  IT; 

A        C       .T          II. 

SCENE  I. 

An  Ale  we  In  an  artificial  Wllderncfs.— DONNA  LOUISA, 
fola. 

HE  burnffli'd  hills  overlook  the  verdant  dales, 
And  nature's  deck'd  in  all  her  bright  array. 
The  whifpering  breeze  plays  o'er  the  dappled  mead, 
And  fans  the  foliage  on  the  flowery  bank  : — 
The  towering,  wood  lark  trills  her  tender  note, 
And  foft  refponfive  mufic  cheers  the  lawn  j 
Yet  here  I  wander  wilder'd  and  alone, 
Like  fome  poor  banifh'd  fugitive  who  feeks 
The  meagre  comfort  of  a  mofs  grown  cave. 

Enter  DONNA    MARIA. 

MARIA. 

Awake  fond  maid — nor  thus  fupinely  wafte 
Thy  youth — thy  bloom.     Thy  matchlefs  beauty  fades 
Mid'ft  forrow,  fighs,  and  unavailing  tears. 

LOUISA. 

Thought  feeds  my  woes,  nor  can  my  reafon  aid 
To  calm  the  paffions  of  my  grief  torn  breafr, 
'Till  concord  weaves  again  her  palmy  wreath, 
To  deck  the  face  of  this  diffracted  land. 

MARIA. 

Though  weak  companion  finks  the  female  mind, 
And  ouf  frail  fex  diflblve  in  pity's  tears  ; 
Yet  juftice'  fword  can  never  be  refheath'd, 
'Till  Charles  is  tahghyp  know  we  will  be  free  ; 
And  learns  the  duty  that  a  monarch  owes, 
To  heaven — the  people — and  the  rights  of  man. 

Let 


*ig  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE. 

Let  him  reftore  the  liberties  of  Spain — 
Difmifs  the -robbers  that  arreft  his  ear — 
Thofe  penfion'd  plunderers  that  rudely  feize 
What  nature  gave,  and  what  our  fathers  won. 

LOUISA. 

I  retrofpeft,  and  weep  Spain's  happier  days — 
Survey  the  pleafures  once  we  call'd  our  own, 
When  harmony  dilplay'd  her  gentle  wand, 
And  every  peafant  fmil'd  beneath  his  vine — 
'Till  nature  fickens  at  the  fad  reverfe, 
And  my  fwoln  bofom  heaves  with  fmother'd  %hs, 
Too  big  to  be  reprefs'd. — I  yield  to  grief 
'Till  floods  of  tears  relieve  my  tortur'd  foul. 

MARIA. 

Maria  has  a  bolder  part  to  acl — 
I  fcorn  to  live  upon  ignoble  terms — 
A  fupple  courtier  fawning  at  the  feet 
Of  proud  defpotic  nobles,  or  of  kings. 

LOUISA. 

Had  I  thy  firmnefs,  yet  my  heart  would  bleed 
To  fee  my  country  torn  by  eivil  feuds. 
Each  hero  hurls  a  javelin  at  the  bread 
His  heart  reveres,  and  friendship's  foul  recoils 
W7hen  the  bold  veteran  urges  home  the  blow, 
To  pierce  the  man  he  venerates  and  loves  ; 
While  the  brave  patriot  parries  back  the  fhaft 
Againft  a  life  that  virtue's  felf  would  fave. 

MARIA. 

This  fad  neceflity — this  painful  ftrife, 
Should  reunite  the  citizens  of  Spain  ; 
And  roufe  each  languid  arm  with  tenfold  zeal 
To  point  the  thunder  at  a  tyrant's  head, 

Ere 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.  up 

Ere  yet  the  lingering  mind  indignant  finks, 
Debas'd  and  trembling  at  a  defpot's  frown. 

Rather  let  cities  that-fupport  his  reign, 
Like  Torbolatan  yefterday  reduc'd, 
Be  ftorm'd  and  fack'd  before  tomorrow's  dawn  j 
And  thus  be  taught  the  weaknefs  of  the  mind 
That  dare  a  moment  balance  in  the  fcale, 
A  crown  for  kings — with  liberty  to  man. 
LOUISA. 

But  ah,  Maria  I—this  little  felf  obtrudes  f 
I  cannot  boaft  difinterefted  grief ; 
Louifa's  tears  can  never  ceafe  to  flow. 
If  brave  Don  Juan  wins  a  glorious  day, 
My  father — friends — and  family  are  loft  j 
If  viclory  for  loyalty  declares — 
Or  if  Don  Francis — noble  Francis,  falls — 
Is  there  a  name  from  Caftile  to  the  Rhone, 
So  wretched  as  thy  friend — thy  lov'd  Louifa  ? 

MARIA. 

Thou  fliould'ft  have  liv'd  in  mild  and  gentler  times, 
And  breath 'd,  and  flumber'd  in  the  lap  of  peace, 
As  innocent  and  foft  as  infant  love, 
When  lull'd  to  reft  by  .a  fond  mother's  fong  ; 
The  fmiling  babe,  wak'd  by  the  wind's  rude  breath, 
The  pearly  dew  drop  trickles  from  its  eye, 
'Till  footh'd  to  quiet  by  its  favourite  toy  ; 
But  for  myfelf—  though  famine,  chains,  and  death 
Should  all  combine-«-nay,  fhould  Don  Juan  fall — 
Which  Heav'n  forbid — I  ne'er  will  yield, 
Nor  own  myfelf  a  (lave. — But  fee  thy  lover, 
Penfive,  walks  this  way. — Adieu,  my  friend, 
I  muft  be  gone — the  bufy  moments  call — 
My  mind  is  fraught  with  cares  of  high  import.        [Exit. 

SCENE 


*20  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.' 

S    C    E    iPfe       II. 
Enter  DON  FRANCIS  and  DONNA  LOUISA. 

FRANCIS. 

JLrfET  hope  return  and  fpread  her  filken  wing, 
And  fmile  beneath  the  canopy  of  love  ; 
The  heav'n  born  mind,  where  virtue  fits  enthron'd, 
Should  be  fcrene,  nor  wafte  itlelf  in  fighs. 

LOUISA. 

Talk  not  of  love,  while  fympathetic  pain, 
And  keeneft  forrows,  rive  the  boldeft  heart ; 
While  thoufands  fall  at  freedom's  facred  flirine, 
And  bathe  her  pedeftal  with  the  rich  blood 
Of  the  beft  foldiers  that  the  world  can  boaft  ; 
While  the  fond  wife  droops  o'er  her  dying  lord, 
And  orphan'd  babes,  and  widow 'd  matrons  weep, 
Thrown  heLplefs,  on  a  cold,  ungrateful  world, 
As  pitilefs  as  winter's  frozen  hand. 

FRANCIS. 

For  human  woes  my  heart  has  often  bled — 
Yet  dry  thy  tears,  and  calm  thy  ruffled  mind- 
Anticipate  my  blifs,  and  bid  me  live  : — 
Oh  !  give  thy  hand,  and  plight  thy  facred  vow, 
Ere  war's  hoarfe  clarion  fummons  to  the  field, 
That  nought  but  death  fliall  tear  thee  from  my  arms. 

LOUISA. 

Why  wilt  thou  urge  and  importune  my  vows 
While  all  my  foul  is  agony  and  grief  ? — 
Name  love  no  more,  till  peace  fhall  biefs  the  land  ; 
When  reduen'd  wrath  no  longer  lifts  the  fword, 
Dip'd  to  the  hilt  in  rancour's  baneful  dream- 
That 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE,  J2t 

That  the  fteel'd  heart  may  deeper  plunge  the  blade, 
Without  a  figh — when  from  the  gaping  wound, 
Outru/1/..s,  flaring,  the  aftonifh'd  foul 
Of  his  lov'd  friend,  or  of  a  brother  fiain. 
Ah  ! — whither  do  I  rove — let  me  retire, 
Left  I  betray  the  weaknefs  of  my  heart. 

FRANCIS. 

O  might  I  claim  that  tender  trickling  tear, 
And  call  thofe  fighs  my  own — they'd  waft  me  on 
Towards  the  field  of  fame,  with  frefli  blown  hope, 
That  ere  tomorrow's  fun  engulphs  his  brow!, 
And  cools  his  fteeds  beyond  the  weftern  main, 
I  might  return  victorious  to  thine  arms, 
And  lay  my  trophies  at  Louifa's  feet. 

LOUISA. 

And  what  thefe  trophies — but  a  brother's  fpoils  ) 
Who  is  the  victim  thy  fuccefs  would  doom 
To  infamy — difgrace — defpair  and  death  ? 

FRANCIS. 

Ah  !  there's  the  pain — the  fharpeft  pang  I  feel 
To  lift  the  fword,  and  tread  the  hoftile  ground. 
'The  Conde  Haro  is  a  virtuous  foe. 

LOUISA. 

The  Conde  Haro — is — Louifa's  brother — 
The  only  heir  of  Don  Velafco's  houfe— 
And  if  he  falls — fate  fevers  us  forever. 

FRANCIS. 
Forever  ! — revoke  the  fentence  ere  it  reaches  heaven. 

LOUISA. 
Forever.     Remember  this,  and  fpare  De  Haro's  blood, 

FRANCIS. 
But,  if  in  battle  he  fliould  bravely  fall— 

L  LOUISA, 


tas  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE, 

LOUISA. 

A  ftern,  enrag'd,  inexorable  (ire, 
Might  hold  Louifa  guilty  of  his  death. 

FRANCIS. 

Juft  Heaven  forbid  ! — Could  he  arraign  a  mind 
As  pure  and  fpotlefs  as  the  infant  morn  ? 

.     LOUISA. 

Velafco  is  to  royalty  alii'd, 
A  feudal  lord,  of  ancient  pedigree  ; 
In  rank,  in  wealth,  in  fame,  the  firft  in  Spain  ; 
His  high  fwoln  pride  burfts  forth  in  peals  of  rage, 
Whene'er  he  talks  or  names  the  rebel  chiefs  ; 
Forbids  his  fon  to  fpare  a  fmgle  life, 
If  fortune  makes  him  mailer  of  the  field  : — 
Think  then  what  agonies  pervade  my  breaft. 

FRANCIS. 

When  honour  calls,  and  juftice  wields  the  f  word, 
True  virtue  fpares,  and  clemency  forgives  ; 
But  when  a  fierce,  tyrannic  luft  of  fway, 
Deforms  the  foul,  and  blots  out  nature's  (lamp, 
The  wolf,  or  tyger,  prowling  for  his  prey, 
Is  lefs  a  favage  than  the  monfter  man. 

LOUISA. 

No  more,  my  lord — I  fink  beneath  the  (form  .; 
The  jarring  pafiions  tear  my  feeble  frame — 
My  filial  duties  make  the  firft  demand  ; 
Yet,  fpite  of  thefe,  a  group  of  pafiions  rife, 
Love — friendmip — fear — companion  and  defpair, 
Alternate  rend,  in  fpite  of  reafon's  fway. 

Amidd  the  ftorm,  the  kind  De  Haro  comes, 
And  with  a  fmile,  ineffably  ferene, 
With  all  the  foftnefs  of  fraternal  love, 
U~  cries — forbear  to  think  of  me  again, 

Or 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.  123, 

Or  that  thy  brother  hazards  fame  or  life, 
Aoainft  the  valour  of  a  dearer  naine. 

£3 

ALis  ! — how  weak  my  trembling  heart's  become—* 
Oh  ! — what  has  my  unguarded  tongue  difclos'd  ! 

FRANCIS. 
What  makes  me  blefs'd  beyond  the  power  of  fate, 

LOUISA. 

Deception  oft  beneath  a  flimfy  veil, 
Hides  human  hearts,  nor  lets  man  know  himfelf. 
Should  fortune  fnatch  the  viclory  from  thee — 
Thyfelf — thy  friends — and  freedom  loft  at  once— » 
Perhaps  you'll  curfe,  in  agonies  of  grief, 
Louifa's  houfe — her  venerated  fire — 
Her  noble  brother — and  yet  more  I  dread — 
Yes — my  lip  trembles  at  the  riling  thought — 
The  haplefs  daughter  of  thy  cruel  foe. 
Is  thy  love  proof  againft  this-  teft  fevere  ? — 

FRANCIS. 

Defcription  would  but  beggar  love  like  mine  j 
Meafure  the  earth  and  mount  beyond  the  ftars, 
There's  nought  below  can  bound  its  full  extent  j 
Not  death  itlelf  can  blot  thee  from  my  heart. 

LOUISA. 

Then  am  I  thine  ! — witnefs  ye  heavenly  powers  ! — 
This  is  the  fignet  of  thy  wedded  wife  ;     [Gives  him  a  ring, 
In  the  luft  exigence  weigh  well  its  worth, 
And  claim  thy  life  from  Don  Velafco's  hand. 
This  was  the  pledge  of  his  Zelinda's  faith  : 
Knowing  the  fallies  of  his  haughty  foul — 
In  a  fond  moment  of  paternal  love, 
He  kifs'd  my  cheek,  and  caught  my  trembling  hand, 
Ifix'd  on  my  finger  this  invalu'd  gem, 

Ami 


1*4  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE. 

And  by  a  folemn  oath  he  bound  his  foul, 
To  grant  each  prayer  when  this  mould  plead  its  claim, 
FRANCIS. 

Language  fs  poor,  and  time  itfelf  would  fail 
To  fpeak  the  raptures  of  my  grateful  heart. 
LOUISA. 

What  have  I  done — my  filial  love, 
And  the  connubial  ties — at  variance  fet — 
A  brother's  life  againft  a  huftand's  fiak'd — 
My  country's  weal,  with  loyalty  at  war — 
Confufion — tumult- — death  and  flaughter  reign  j, 
As  if  the  demons  leap'd  Tartarus'  bounds 
To  fport  with  mifery  and  grin  at  pain. 
FRANCIS. 

Heaven  has  the  means  to  extricate  from  woe, 
Though  veil'd  from  man — if  patience  waits  his  will  : — 
When  fortitude,  h,£r  fifter  virtue  joins'* 
They  both  triumphant,  meet  a  juft  reward. 
Adieu,  my  love — my  duty  bids  me  hafte  ; 

[Trumpets  ivitbou 

Soon  I  return,  victorious  from  the  field, 
And  clafp  an  angel  to  my  faithful  breaft.  [Exit. 

LOUISA,  Jb'us. 

•  He's  gone  ! — 

I  feel  the  parting  firoke  fevere  indeed — 
As  if  his  lips  pronounc'd  a  lad  adieu. 

Now  all  ye  powers  fupreme,  fupport  my  foul  } 
Teach  me  to  brave  the  conflicts  of  the  world 
In  this  extreme  difrrefs — nor  let  me  fwerve 
From  honour's  path,  or  virtue's  ftricleft  rule  ; 
Nor  let  my  confcience  once  upbraid  my  flaps.        [£*/*. 


SCENE 
i 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.  i* 

SCENE       III. 

eONDE     HARO,    folus. 

DE  HARO. 

'•  V  E  L  A  S  C  O  's  will,  back'd  by  the  king's  com 
mand,. 

Tmuft  obey,  or  blaft  my  rifing  fame, . 
And  hazard  all  in  the  precarious  caufe, 
Of  freedom,  ilak'd  againft  the  power  of  kings  ; 
Yet  warring  paflions  tear  my  tortur'd  foul  ; 
Difcordant  hopes  make  me  a  wretch  indeed, 
I  love  Maria — I  revere  her  lord — 
And  almoft  wifli  the  vicl'ry  may  be  his  j 
Yet  if  he  falls — he  falls  as  Brutus  fell, 
In  the  lad  llruggle  for  his  country's  weal  ; 
While  my  fuccefs  will  rivet  faft  her  clminsj, 
Erafe  each  veftige  of  her  ancient  rights, 
And  make  me  odious  in  Maria's  eye. 
And  (hall  I  fofler  this  inglorious  Same  ? 
A  hopelefs  paflion  gnawing  on  my  peace, 
And  cankering  my  foul  againft  the  man 
I  once  efteem'd  my  friend — though  now  a  foe, 
He's  virtue's  friend  where'er  he  meets  her  name. 

The  moral  fenfe,  that  checks  the  wayward  will, 
Now  witnefs  bear — I'm  mafter  of  myfelf  :  — 
I'll  meet  him  in  the  field  on  equal  terms  j 
No  bafe  defire,  or  any  lawlefs  wifn, 
Shall  more  obtrude  to  interrupt  my  peace  :-— 
But  honour,  juftice,  duty  to  my  king, 
Shall  wield  my  fword,  and  lead  to  fpotlefs  fame.      [£*7/ 

1,2  SCENE 


25  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE, 

SCENE       IV. 

DON  JUAN  DE  PADILLA  and  DONNA-MARIA. 
DON  JUAN. 


IRST  of  thy  fex—  thou  miflr.efs  of  my  heart- 
Not  all  Hefperia  can  boafl  a  fair 
So  amiably  foft,  difcreet  and  wife  ; 
With  fuch  a  firm,  heroic,  noble  foul,. 
Why  mould  a  tear  bedew  thy  lovely  cheek  ? 
MARIA. 

I  fee  diftrefs  on  every  ilde  I  turn  j 
Some  fad  dejection  marks  the  foldiers  brow  ; 
Though  veterans  in  arms,  they  fear  the  king, 
And  tremble  at  the  frown  of  majefty  :  — 
The  nobles  all,  though  emulous  of  fame, 
Are  jealous,  proud  —  are  turbulent  and  ram— 
The  people  fierce,  yet  ever  prone  to  change. 
Today  the  cap  of  liberty's  tofs'd  up  — 
Tomorrow  torn  and  given  to  the  winds, 
And  all  their  leaders,  by  the  fickle  throng 
Are  faerific'd  by  violence,  or  fraud. 
DON  JUAN. 

So  far  above  the  weaknefs  of  thy  fex, 
Let  me  befeech  thee  never  to  defpair  j  — 
Support  thy  courage,  arm  thy  noble  mind  — 
Sure  never  more  did  thy  Padilla  need 
Thy  wifdom,  counfel,  fortitude  and  zeal, 
To  animate  amidft  ten  thoufand  cares. 
But  my  firm  purpofe  never  can  be  mook  ; 
While  life  glows  warm  within  my  beating  breaff, 
I  will  defend,  agairift  the  proudeft  foe, 
The  liberties  of  Spain,  my  country's  rights. 

MARIA, 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.  127 

MARIA. 

So  dangerous  a  foe  has  Spain  ne'er  feerr 
Since  from  the  brindled  North,  the  favage  hords 
Pour'd  from  their  frozen  hives,  where  gendering  ftorms  ' 
Have  rulli'd,  a-nd  fwell'd  fair  Ebro's  banks  with  blood. 
DON  JUAN. 

We  have  been  free  e'er  (nice  the  mighty  Goths, 
In  barb'rous  fwarras,  compelFd  the  peaceful  fwain 
To  bare  his  breaft,  and  meet  the  Granger's  fvvord  j 
The  raw  and  hardy  peafants  of  the  field, 
Train Jd  up  to  arms,  inur'd  to  feats  of  war, 
Op'd  tfreir  full  veins,  and  wafh'd  in  native  gore 
The  field,  the  village,  and  their 'father's  tombs, 
Ere  they  eftablift'd  Hbertyand  peace. 
Their  ancient  victories  (hall  be  recall 'd 
By  the  warm  fluid  from  Don  Juan's  heart, 
Ere  he'll  fubmit  to  drag  about  this  fheli 
Through  nature's  fyftem,  as  an  ufelefs  drone, 
Or  live  the  fiave  of  any  lawlefs  power. 

MARIA. 

O  Heaven  forbid  ! — nor  dafh  my  country's  hopes*) 
Or  premature,  cut  down  before  the  noon 
A  life  of  glory  and  heroic  worth, 
And  blaft  iuccefs^  while  virtue  lifts  the  fwonL 

DON  JtfAN. 

Sure  life  protracted  is  a  vulgar  wifh,. 
Unlefs  fome  noble  end  blows  up  the  flame» 

MARIA. 

Spite  of  myfelf,  I  have  betray'd  a  tear  ; 
But  feel  my  courage  brighten  by  thy  fide  f 
Nor  fhall  the  weaknefs  of  my  fex  again, 
Create  a  fear  that  may  difturb  thy  peace, 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE. 


DON 

Hafte  back,  my  love,  left  feme  mifliap  befal  , 
The  good  Zemora  guards  Toledo's  gates 
With  vigilance  and  faith  ;  —  there  thou  art  faff. 
Protect  my  fon,  and  guard  his  infant  years  ; 
In  his  young  bofom  nurture  every  truth, 
'Till  ripen'd  worth  and  manly  virtue  glow, 
And  mark  him  thine  and  thy  Padilla's  fon. 
The  ha  fly  moments  fly  —  I  muft  away  — 
I  rifque  a  battle  on  the  morning  dawn. 

MARIA. 
O  may  we  meet  again  with  brighter  hopes  !  — 

DON  JUAN. 

We  meet  again  with  glory  and  renown— 
Or,  meet  no  more.  - 

MARIA. 

•  -  Or  meet  no  more  ! 

The  dread  idea  ftiffens  every   ner^ve. 

DON  JUAN. 

Let  no  ill  omen'd  word  efcape  thy  lip. 
Fair  freedom  (lands,  and  waves  her  laurel  high  j 
She,  on  the  acme  of  her  burnlfli'd  throne, 
Shall  hail  the  morrow  with  applauding  fhouts, 
And  greet  Maria,  as  the  guardian  queen 
Of  union,  peace,  and  liberty  to  Spain. 

\Exeunt. 


SCENE 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.  129 

SCENE      V. 

DON  JUAN  DS  PADILLA  and  DON  PEDRO; 
PEDRO. 

JL  QLEDO's  banners  reach  the  pendant  fktes^ 
And  kifs  the  winds,  and  hail  the  work  begun  : 
I  ficken  for  the  fignal  to  the  field, 
When  a  decifive  conflict  muft  enfue  ; 
I  burn,  I  languish,  till  the  tyrant  falls, 
With  all  the  flatt'rers  that  furround  his  throne, 

DON  JUAN. 

Be  temperate  in  words,  but  bold  in  deeds  ; 
Mod  men  are  brave  till  courage  has  been  try'd, 
And  boaft  of  virtue  till  their  price  is  known  :-— 
Brit  thirft  of  gold— the  curfed  thirft  of  gold, 
Which  plundered  Mexico  of  all  its  wealth, 
And  broil'dher  valiant  fons  in  queft  of  more, 
Is  a  feverer  tyrant  of  the  mind, 
Than  coarfer  vice  that  mark'd  our  fimpler  ftate,. 
Ere  cruel  Spain  explor'd  that  diftant  world. 
Then  golden  bribes  corrupted  not  the  mind  ; 
No  fon  of  CafHle,  or  of  Arragon, 
E'er  fold  his  honour,  or  relinquifh'd  fame, 
For  foft  refinements  that  flow  in  with  wealth, 
Nor  floop'd  to-  wear  the  liv'ry  of  a  flave. 

PEDRO. 

Let  not  a  coward,  or  a  knave  be  fpar'd, 
Who  fhrouds  his  head  from  danger  or  from  death, 
When  freedom's  caufe  Hands  trembling  on  the  fwordo 

Don 


130  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.. 

DON  JUAN. 

Tomorrow  gives  a  glorious  teft  of  worth  j 
Courage  will  fhlne  confpicuoufly  bright, 
Or  guilt  may  fliake  and  dafh  the  nervelefs  arm,. 
That  draws  a  fword  to  maffacre  the  brave. 

PEDRO. 

Virtue's  fair  image  then  will  fhield  thy  head, 
And  animate  the  man  who  dare  be  free. 

\F\ourifo  of  trum£?t  s>  and  alarm 

DON  JUAN. 
The  hofllle  clarion  fummons  to  the  field. 

[PEDRO  greatly  agitated* 

Hah  ! — pale  and  trembling  at  the  trumpet's  found  !— • 
Pedro,  hafte  on,  and  take  thy  deftin'd  pod, 
'Twill  lead  to  glory,  conqueft,  and  to  fame  ; 
To  fure  renown,  if  valour  guides  thy  armj 
But  certain  infamy,  difgrace  arid  death, 
If  treafon  lurks  beneath  the  guife  of  seal. 

[Exit  DON  JVAN> 
DON  PEDRO,  folus. 

Curfe  on  Don  Juan's  penetrating  eye — 
He's  prob'd  my  foul — fufpecls  I  am  a  villain  :— 
'Tis  true  that  envy  of  his  fame  at  fir  ft, 
Bound  the  bright  helmet  on  Don  Pedro's  brow. 
And  not  the  bubble  freedom — empty  name  !— 
'Tis  all  a  puff—  a  vifionary  dream — 
That  kindles  up  this  patriotic  flame  j 
*Tis  rank  felf  love,  conceal'd  beneath  a  mafk 
Of  public  good.     The  hero's  brain  inflates — 
He  cheats  himfelf  by  the  falfe  medium, 
Held  in  virtue's  guife,  till  he  believes  it  jufl  i 
But  the  vile  rabble — the  plebeian  race, 
Made  for  the  yoke,  bend  like  the  fervile  mule, 
And  own  mankind  were  made  for  flaves  to  power. 

A  waxen 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE. 

A  waxen  pillar  in  the  central  point 
Of  fol's  meridian  beams,  melts  not  fo  faft, 
As  will  their  army  wafte  by  court  intrigues, 
JBy  fraud,  by  bribes,  by  flattery  and  fear  : 
A  flow  campaign  enfures  fuccefs  to  Charles  — 
A  weak,  plebeian,  difcontented  band, 
Will  foon  grow  v/eary,  and  defert  their  chiefs. 
I  will  retard,  embarrafs,  and  delay  ; 
•Sow  difcord  round,  while  they  inactive  lie  : 
Then  fly  fecure  to  Don  Urano's  roof. 
My  fire  detefts  this  noify  factious  rout, 
And  opes  his  arms  to  welcome  my  return  ; 
And  Don  Velafco  pays  a  noble  .price  — 
His  price  would  bribe  a  prince  to  quit  his  crown. 

Let  nations  fink  —  poftcrity  be  thrall'd  — 
Vice  reign  triumphant  —  liberty  expire  — 
May  I  but  humble  haughty  Juan's  pride, 
And  gain  Louifa  —  as  the  blefs'd  reward. 


Exit. 


ACT 


333  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE. 

A        C        T          III. 
SCENE          I. 

CONDE  HARO  and  LOUISA.— (DE  HARD  arm  d  and 

.    equlpt  for  battle.) 


A, 


LOUISA. 


.LAS  my  brother  I — 
Already  arm'd — the  burnifh'd  helmet  on  ! — • 
The  hoftile  trump  awakes  from  broken  fleep 
Before  the  bird  of  morn  has  hail'd  the  day. 

Falfe  glory  throbs  within  thy  beating  bread — 
Thy  lifted  fword  displays  its  whetted  point, 
Not  to  difpel  the  fierce,  barbarian  Moor, 
Or  chafe  the  alien  from  thefe  blighted  (bores  : 
It  wounds  the  fons — the  citizens  of  Spain. 

DE  HARO. 

Upbraid  me  not — nor  fharpen  thus  the  pangs 
That  rankle  here,  and  wound  thy  brother's  breafh 
Words  cannot  paint — nor  can  Louifa  feel, 
The  agonizing  pains  that  pierce  my  heart. 

LOUISA. 

What  can  diflurb  the  hero  arra'd  for  fame  ?—• 
The  prince's  favour,  and  his  father's  love, 
Anticipate  the  glory  he  purfues. 

DE  HARO. 

The  fecret  dies  within  De  Haro's  bread, 
Unlefs  fome  ftrange,  fortuitous  event, 
Should  heal  my  heart,  and  reinilate  my  peace. 

LOUISA, 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.  i3> 

LOUISA. 

0  might  I  weep  my  weary  life  away, 
And  clofe  mine  eyes  on  mifery  at  large  ! — 
Yet  I  could  bear  my  griefs  tenfold  enhanc'd, 
If  this  might  heal,  or  mitigate  thy  pain, 

Or  footh  the  anguifh  of  a  brother's  heart. 

DE  HARD. 

Bear  up  thyfelf  againft  the  ftorms  of  life— • 
The  fharpen'd  pangs  of  difappointed  love. 

LOUISA. 

Canfl  thou  forgive  th*  involuntary  figh, 
The  darting  tear — that,  as  an  April  morn, 
Pours  down  in  torrents  and  obfcures  the  fun  ? 
DE  HARO. 

1  know  the  fecret  thorn  that  wounds  thy  peace. 

LOUISA. 

I  would  conceal  the  weaknefs  of  my  heart  ; 
Yet  not  from  thee — but  from  a  flerner  eye. 

DE  HARO. 

Bltifh  not,  Louifa — 'tis  a  noble  flame, 
And  Francis' virtues  merit  all  thy  love. 

LOUISA. 

Yet  he's  thy  foe— -the  brother  and  the  friend 
Of  noble  Juan — and  can  this  lead  thy  hand — 
This  gentle  hand — bath'd  in  a  fitter's  tears, 
To  plunge  thy  dagger  in  a  hero's  breaft, 
From  whence  may  rufh  a  moft  exalted  foul, 
Adorn'd  with  every  grace  that  wins  the  heart, 

Or  dignifies  the  man  ? 

DE  HARO. 

Great  fouls — form'd  in  the  fame  etherial  mould, 
Are  ne'er  at  war — they,  different  paths 

M  Of 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE. 

Of  glory  may  purfue,  with  equal  zeal  j 
Yet  not  a  cruel,  or  malignant  thought, 
•Or  rancorous  defign,  deform  the  mind. 
I  much  efteern  Don  Juan  and  his  friends, 
But  numerous  ties  engag'd  my  fword  to  Charles, 
And  .gratitude  had  bound  the  buckler  on, 
Ere  I  was  nam'd  the  champion  in  his  caufe  : 
Yet  if  fuccefe  my  loyal  purpofe  crowns, 
Mercy  mall  fpare,  where  juftice  don't  condemn  ; 
Believe  Louifa,  not  Don  Francis'  life 
Is  more  thy  care  than  it  fhall  be  my  own. 

LOUISA. 

The  indifcriminating  arrow  flies, 

And  often  wounds  where  friendfhip's  arm  would  fave  ; 
.-.Should  w,ar's  uncertain  chance  make  him  thy  captive — 

DE  HARD. 
The  monarch  and  the  laws  mud  then  decide. 

LOUISA. 

My  bleeding  heart  anticipates  my  fate  : 
"Oh  *  what  a  bubble  'tis,  ye  glory  call— - 
Miftaken  name — a  phantom  of  the  brain. 
That  leads  the  hero  on  to  leap  the  bounds 
Of  every  ibcial  tie — till  blood — till  death, 
Spreads  horror  over  nature's  frighted  face  :  — 
Ambition  rears  his  fierce  and  furious  fang — 
In  gnzly  treffes  jealoufy  attends — 
'Till  difcord  reigns,  and  civil  fury  burns, 
,  Ahd  arms  the  fon  again  (I  a  father's  life, 
Or  plants  a  poignard  in  a  dearer  heart. 
Oh  !  how  fevcrely  mark'd  my  hapleTs'fate  ; 
The  bed  of  brothers  whets  the  dagger's  point — 
The  fondeft  hufband  wields  the  fliarpen'd  lance, 
And  both  are  amTd.at  Tad  Louifk's  bread. 

DE 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASfTlLEi 

DE  HARD. 

Thy  hufband  ! — hah — rafh  maid — 
LOUISA. 

Yes — by  each  facred  tie. 

Thus  incoherent  my  diftrafted  prayer, 
Prophanes  the  altar  when  to  God  I  bow  ; 
I.  ftart — I  tremble — left  kind  heaven  grant 
The  boon  I  afk.     Affrighted  at  myfelf, 
I  call  it  back,  and  quick  revoke  my  wifh, 
Left  it  involve  me  in  fupreme  diftrefs. 

[Trumpets  and  martial  mufic 

DE  HARO. 

A  day  decides — the  trumpet  founds  to  arms  ; 
Tomorrow  will  difclofe  new  fcenes  of  woe, 
Or  ope  the  gates  to  happinefs  and  peace. 

LOUISA. 

My  heart's  too  full — it  bends  me  to  the  grave  : 
My  anger'd  fire  fufpefts — he  folemn  moves, 
Majefticaliy  grave — with  awful  brow,  # 

And  chides  fevere  whene'er  I  meet  his  eye  ; 
Oh -I — could  I  hide  forever  from  his  frown  ! — 

[Exeunt. 


SCENE 


13*  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE, 

SCENE       II. 
DON  VELASCO  and  DONNA  LOUISA. 

VELASCO. 

JL  OND  foolifii  maid — what  fecret  guilt's  conceal**!* 
That  thus  in  tears — all  penfive  and  alone, 
Thou  feek'ft  to  hide,  e'en  from  a  father's  eye  ?— 

LOUISA. 

Alas  !  I  weep  for  human  woes  at  large  :— * 
I  weep  my  country  and  my  haplefs  friends. 
IVIan,  the  vile  fport  of  reftlefs  pafTion,  roves 
Through  fad  inquietudes  and  painful  cares, 
'Till  his  ambition  fets  the  world  on  fire. 

'Mongft  all  the  ills  that  hover  o'er  mankind* 
Unfeign'd,  or  fabled,  in  the  poet's  page, 
The  blackeft  fcrawl  the  fitter  furies  hold, 
For  r£d  ey'd  wrath,  or  malice  to  fill  up, 
Is  incomplete  to  fum  up  human  woe  ; 
'Till  civil  difcord,  ftill  a  darker  fiend, 
Stalks  forth  unmafk'd  from  his  infernal  den, 
With  mad  Alecto's  torch  in  his   right  hand 
To  light  the  flame,  and  rend  the  foul  of  nature, 

VELASCO. 

But  inoft  of  all,  a  daughter  is  a  curfe, 
Whene'er  me  lets  her  wanton  thoughts  run  loofe, 
Weak  maid  retire — in  thy  apartment  hide, 
Nor  dare  to  fhew  thy  weeping  face  abroad, 
'Till  war  mall  ceafe,  and  bufinefs  gives  me  time 
To  crown  thy  nuptials  with  a  noble  lord, 
To  whom  thou  art  betroth'd— who  claims  thy  hand  j 

Thou 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.  137 

Thou  (halt  be  his — when  from  the  field  are  chas'd 
Thefe  bold  confpirators — I've  pledg'd  my  faith. 

LOUISA. 
Let  thy  Louifa  wake  compafiion  up. 

[Falls  on  her  knee, 
Revoke  thy  vow,  and  let  me  live  a  maid. 

VELASCO. 

Both  by  the  hoft,  and  by  St.  Peter's  key, 
I've  fworn,  nor  will  revoke  my  plighted  faith  ; 
Prepare  thyfelf  for  wedlock's  facred  vows  ; 
One  week  completes  the  matrimonial  tie. 

LOUISA. 

O  let  me  live  in  fome  dark  hermitage, 
Or  in  fome  gloomy  cell — I'll  cloifter'd  die, 
But  can't  this  once  obey  my  father's  will. 

[LouiSA  trembling  andfziint—VLLA5C9f 
enraged,  leads  her  off. 


SCENE       III. 

D©N  JUAN  DE  PADILLA  and  DON  FRANCIS, 
FRANCIS. 


A 


.LAS!  my  lord,  an  unexpected  blow  1 
But  thou'rt  prepar'd  for  all  that  fate  can  do, 
Too  great  to  fear — too  good  to  be  difmay'd,  . 

DON  JUAN. 

So  well  I  know  the  fhifting  tide  of  life, 
I'm  not  appall'd  whene'er  its  ebb  runs  oiF, 
And  leaves  man  fhallow'd  on  the  oozy  ftrand.    • 

M  2  FRANCIS, 


j3S  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE, 

FRANCIS. 

Tordefilas   is  feiz'd— the  queen  betray 'd — 
Don  Pedro  fied,  and  join'd  the  emperor's  troops. 
DON  JUAN. 

No  genuine  faith,  or  patriotic  worth, 
Had  ere  a  place  in  his  corrupted  bread. 

While  juftice  holds  the  golden  (bales  aloft, 
And  weighs  our  glorious  caufe  with  equal  hand,. 
And  bids  each  valiant  chief  fupport  her  claim, 
Needlefs  the  aid  of  Pedro's  daftard  arm. 

FRANCIS. 

High  heav'n  in  wrath  fupports  the  royal  caufe,. 
And  gives  fuccefs  o'er  Charles's  foreign  foes  ; 
E'en  Solyman  the  great,  fatigu'd  with  war, 
Of  Muftapha  afraid,  fighs  to  return 
To  Roxalana's  captivating  charms, 
Agrees  a  truce,  and  leaves  th'  Hungarian  plains. 
DON  JUAN. 

Refentful,  brave,  and  nurs'd  in  valour's  fchool, 
Francis  ftili  waits  him  at  the  Pavian  gate. 
FRANCIS. 

The  king  of  France,  whofe  evil  ftars  combine 
To  give  his  rival  empire  o'er  the  world, 
Has  loft  a  battle  at  the  Pavian  gate, 
And  langulihes  a  prifoner  to  Charles. 

DON  JUAN. 

Hah  ! — is  Francis  made  the  fickle  fport  of  fortune  ? 
A  ruder  game  the  wanton  never  play'd, 
To  ftrip  the  wreaths,  and  blaft  a  monarch's  fame, 
Aluft  Gallia's  generous,  brave  and  valiant  king, 
Do  homage  for  his  crown  at  Charles's  feet  ? 

If  victory  declares  on  freedom's  fide, 
My  arm  (hull  aid  in  all  his  juft  demands. 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.  i39 

Ere  Ferdinand  had  feiz'd  the  neighbouring  crowns, 
He  form'd  a  fyftem  to  enflave  mankind  : 
But  Charles  improves  on  his  def'potic  plan  ; 
Yet  one  campaign,  one  fignal  victory  gain'd, 
May  fluke  the  tyrant  from  his  triple  throne, 
And  once  again,  o'er  the  European  world, 
Relight  the  torch  by  tyranny  obfcur'd. 

But  if  his  cruel  fword  at  laft  prevails, 
Europe  will  bleed  from  Tagus  to  the  Scheld^ 
Beneath  his  barb'rous  perfecuting  race. 
We  then  muft  flrike  one  bold  decisive  blow  ; 
The  rights  of  man  were  refcu'd  by  the  fword, 
From  Nimrod  down  to  Caefar  or  to  Charles — 
Hafte  on  this  moment  and  rejoia  the  troops. 
FRANCIS. 

At  freedom's  pedeftal  I've  laid  my  hopes, 
The  brighteft  boon  of  life — my  promis'd  bride — 
My  lov'd  Louifa's  charms  ; — to  be  her  lord, 
I  would  not  riot  in  her  arms  a  flave.         [Exit  FRANCIS 


SCENE      IV. 
DON   JUAN   DE  PAD  ILL  A,  fobs. 

DON  JUAN. 

JL  HIS  day  decides,  and  gives  the  world  to  Charles/ 
And  plunges  Spain  in  darknefs  and  defpair  ; 
Enwraps  the  mind  in  fuperftition's  veil,    ' 
While  freedom  dies  on  his  all  conquering  fword  ; 
Or  fprcads  victorious  her  expanded  wing, 
And  fhrouds  the  rights  which  reafon  lends  to  man. 

I  give 


*4*  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE. 

I  give  my  life  a  cheerful  facrifice  j 

*Tis  a  juft  debt  my  country  may  demand. 

And  if  I  fall  in  fuch  a  gforious  caufe, 

I'll  boaft  my  lot  ; — let  future  pens  record 

Don  Juan's  arm  once  fliook  a  tyrant's  throne. 

'Twas  on  the  fpot,  where  now  Toledo  ftands 
Our  anceftors  defeated  Pompey's  troops  ; 
And  in  the  height  of  Rome's  exalted  fame, 
Numantia's  plains  have  fmok'd  with  Roman  blood » 
E'en  in  the  zenith  of  republic  pride, 
The  virtuous  Scipio  found  it  no  mean  tafk, 
To  fubjugate  Numantia's  warlike  ions  ; 
Nor  does  our  blood  fo  cold  and  languid  run, 
That  we  have  not  the  courage  to  be  free. 
The  loan  of  life  I  only  hold  a  boon, 
When  freedom  lights  to  glory  and  to,  fame  ; 
But  when  fhe  fits  beneath  a  naked  fhrine, 
With  mofs  grown  treiles  o'er  her  furrow 'd  brow, 
And  lays  her  laurels  at  a  tyrant's  feetr 
Let  vulgar  fouls  embrace  the  fervile  chains, 
And  adulation  bafk  in  courtly  fmiles, 
'Till  liberty  herfelf  expires  in  tears. — 

My  fpirit's  unfubdu'd — I'll  ne'er  fubmit  : 
I  yet  muff:  play  a  noble,  glorious  game, 
That  fhukes  the  fceptre,  or  fecures  a  grave, 

[Tumuli ,  andnoifc  of 'battle \  witbouf, 
[Exit. 


SCENE 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.  141 

SCENE      V. 

Shouts  ofviflory,  hurry  and  confufion. — DONNA  MARIA^ 
fola. 

MARIA. 

JL  HE  clarion  roars  and  fcatter'd  parties  fly, 
Confufion,  tumult,  hurry  and  difmay, 
O'erfpread  eacli  guilty  face.—————— 

What  mean  the  rumours  that  aflTail  my  ear  ?— 
Throw  down  their  arms — as  cowards  fly  the  field  I— 
Could  the  brave  Cortes  thus  forfake  their  lorxl  ? — . 
My  throbbing  heart  augurs  a  thoufand  ills, 
That  fhake  my  frame  and  terrify  my  foul, 
As  if  I  faw  their  new  flown  ghofts  advance, 
Jufl  reek  inn;  from  the  carnage  of  the  field  j 
Yet  feel  within  a  manly  force  of  mind 
Urging  to  deeds  heroic  and  fublime, 
Which  but  to  name,  one  half  my  timid  fex, 
Would  fall  the  victims  of  their  own  defpair. 

I  fcorn  the  feeble  foul  that  cannot  brave, 
With  magnanimity,  the  dorms  of  life. 
Then  why  difturb'd  with  thefe  ill  omen'd  fears  ?— • 
Yet  what  am  I,  if  my  Padilla  falls  ? — 
Ah  !  if  the  dallard  citizens  have  fled— 
Juft  anger'd  heaven  furely  has  decreed 
That  on  the  point  of  Charles's  conquering  fword, 
Each  vefiige  of  their  ancient  rights  fhould  die. 

I'll  wander  down  to  yonder  darkfome  grove, 
(And  proftrate  fall  before  th3  etherial  kin^, 
Who  holds  his  empire  o'er  a  jarring  world, 
Makes  peace  and  freedom  fmile  at  his  command, 
Or  the  fell  tyrant's  fuffer'd  to  fucceed, 

To 


S4*  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE. 

To  chain  the  will,  or  manacle  the  mind  ;) 
There  will  I  calm  my  agitated  breaft, 
Pry  off  thofe  tears  which,  ftarting,  have  betray 'd 
The  foften'd  weaknefs  of  a  female  mind. 

Enter  S  O  C  I  A. 

SOCIA. 

Fly,  deareft  lady — fave  thyfclf  and  fon— - 
And  let  the  faithful  Socia  guard  thy  fteps. 

MARIA. 

Is  all  then  loft — and  is  Don  Juan  flain  ?— 
Tell  the  whole  tale,  and  fet  my  foul  on  fire, 
Sre  yet  it  freeze  with  agony  and  doubt. 

SOCIA. 

Hafte,  my  dear  miflrefs—  fly  thefe  cruel  fcenes 
Of  murder,  rapine,  perfidy  and  blood. 
The  routed  troops,  with  hafty  frighted  fteps, 
All  backward  tread*,  nor  could  Don  Juan's  zeal, 
His  valour,  virtue,  fortitude  or  fame, 
Subdue  their  fears  and  rally  them  again, 
Nor  damp  the  ardour  of  the  hot  purfuit. 

MARIA. 

And  does  he  live  to  glut  their  barb'rous  rage  ? 
Or  didTome  feraph  catch  the  hero's  breath, 
His  lateft  figh  to  fee  his  country  free, 
And  gently  waft  his  kindred  foul  away  ? 

SOCIA. 

Our  foes  may  boaft  that  viclory  was  theirs  j 
But  royal  ranks  lie  weltering  on  the  plain 
Where  Juan's  blood  has  mark'd  the  glorious  fpot. 
Yet  lofe  no  time,  for  hither  hades  a  guard 
To  feize  and  drag  to  Conde  Haro's  tent 
The  wife  and  infant  of  my  much  lov'd  lord. 

MARIA, 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.  143 

MARIA. 

Alas  !  my  -child— my  fon— my  darling  boy  1 
The  faired  virtues  beam  in  his  young  eye  ; 
Each  dawning  grace  fits  blooming  on  his  cheek, 
And  fpeaks  him  heir  of  all  his  father's  fame. 
Ghall  he,  an  orphan  .on  the  world  be  tofs'd, 
And  lofe  his  name  among  a  group  of  flaves  ? 
Forbid  it,  heaven  ! — a  mother's  fears 

Shall  not  difarm  my  heart. 

SOCIA. 

I  thought  the  flrength  of  thy  fuperiour  mind 
Could  nobly  brave  the  worft  that  fate  could  do. 

MARIA. 
It  fhall — come,  lead  me  on — 

To  my  Padilla's  tomb — 

His  clay  cold  corpfe  I'll  bathe  in  dreams  of  blood, 
Drawn  from  his  foes,  and  fprinkled  o'er  his  grave. 
The  cyprefs  gloom,  in  dark  lix'd  fliades  mall  bow, 
And  weeping  willows  drop  a  filent  tear, 
'Till  rolling  years  fee  the  laft  fonds  ran  out, 
When  wither'd  Time  throws  dawn  his  ufelefs  glafs, 
And  fhrouds  beneath  eternity's  big  orb. 

SOCIA. 

If  thou  would'ft  be  more  wretched  than  thy  lord. 
Then  weep  and  linger — thoughtlefs  of  thy  fon. 

MARIA. 

Go,  bring  him  hither — rob'd  in  funeral  pomp- 
Attended  by  my  retinue  and  guards  ; 
I  will  not  fly — Toledo  yet  is  ftrong  : 
Maria  ne'er  will  drag  a  wretched  life, 
To  wail  Don  Juan's  fate  in  vulgar  grief  : 
Nor  yet  in  flavery  meet  a  lingering  deatfc, 
Beneath  a  tyrant's  foot. 

I  will 


344  THE  LADIES  OP  CASTILE, 

J  will  avenge  my  lord 

Though  the  rough  furges  in  loud  tempers  roar, 
'Till  the  rude  billows  meet  the  lowering  clouds-— 
I  never  will  defpair,  till  my  foul  flies 
And  mixes  with  the  bold  exalted  (hades, 
The  ftern  brow'd  fpirits  of  the  feudal  lords — 
Who  now  bend  down,  and  frowning  from  the  fkies, 
Chide  back  their  daftard  fons  to  take  the  field, 
Bravely  to  fight — to  conquer  or  to  die. 
So CIA. 

My  heart  mifgives — I  fear  thy  rafh  refolve, 

Yet  I  obey. [Exit  So  CIA, 

MARIA. 

Ye  powers  who  fit  in  judgment  o'er  the  world, 
Or  ye  malignant  fiends  who  blaft  our  hopes, 
•  Grant  Charles's  reftlefs  foul  may  be  condemn  *d 
With  Sifyphus  to  roll  in  endlefs  pain, 
Up  the  Tartarean  hill — the  load  of  empire — 
That  envy'd  bauble  which  mankind  adore  j 
Then  drag  him  down,  fuccefslefsly  to  weep, 
This  fiiadow  hunted  long  in  human  blood, 

[Exit. 


ACT 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.  145 

ACT         IV. 

S        C        E        N        E  I. 

DON  JUAN   and  DON    FRANCIS   In   Chains,  led  by  tbc 
Guards  acrofs  the  Stage.— Pafs  off. 

DON  VELASCO  and  CONDE  HARO. 

DE  HARO. 

JL  O  fee  my  country  bleed,  diftra&s  my  foul  ; 
But  fuffering  virtue  moves  the  gods  themfelves. 
I  muft  implore  my  father's  lenient  hand 
To  hold  fufpended  yet  the  prifoner's  fate, 
Until  the  emperor  himfelf  arrives  : — 
His  clemency  may  fix  his  royal  power, 
And  make  him  worthy  of  the  crown  he  wears, 
A  pardon  granted  to  the  good  and  brave 
Will  bind  their  faith  by  gratitude  and  grace. 

VELASCO. 

The  laws  have  fix'd  their  fignet  on  their  fate  ; 
Nor  will  I  paufe,  or  hefitate  between, 
The  wide  extremes  of  pity  and  revenge. 
Did  confcience  melt,  and  bid  me  fpare  their  lives, 
•I'd  fpurn  her  back — bid  the  rude  phantom  fly, 
And  ceafe  to  check  me  in  my  fix'd  defign  j 
They  die  tomorrow  ere  the  fun  retires. 

DE  HARO. 

I  plight  my  fword,  rny  honour,  faith  and  life, 
Thofe  facred  fan6lions  that  bind  men  of  worth, 
That  Francis'  pardon,  or  Don  Juan's  life, 

N  Shall 


*+6  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE. 

Shall  not  impede  the  glory  of  the  king, 

JSor  caufe  new  ruptures,  or  difturb  the  realm. 

VELASCO. 
The  block's  prepared — by  juftice'  hand  they  die. 

DE  HARD. 

•Let  pity  touch  thy  bread — let  innocence — 
Let  infant  tears — let  virgin  forrow  plead — 
And  let  the  matron's  grief  torn  bolbm  urge 
A  hufband's  caufe  :•— O  fpare  PadillaViife  1 — 

VELASCO. 

And  does  my  (on — the  glory  of  his  houfe, 
Stand  half  diflblv'd-by  pity's  foftening  tear  ? 

DE  HARO. 

There  is  a  fecret  caufe  I  dare  not  name, 
That  yet  might- Ibften  a  fond  father's  heart. 

VELASCO. 

This  curfed  caufe — alas  !  too  long  conceal'd, 
'Unbends  thy  purpofe,  and  unmans  thy  arm. 
Louifa  knov.-s  her  fecret  guilt's  betray 'd  ; 
Her  trembling  fteps  too  weak  to  bear  her  there, 
I  yeflerday  confin'd  her  to  her  room  ; 
Bade  her  paepare  to  pay  her  nuptial  vows 
To  one  I'd  chofen  for  her  rightful  lord, 
To  fave  her  honour  from  a  wanton  love. 

DE  HARO. 

Do  not  precipitate  the  lovely  maid, 
J5ut  gently  lead  with  a  paternal  hand  ; 
And  let  time  heal  her  agitated  breath 

VELASCO. 

Stay  not  to  prattle  here  for  pardoning  gr<ve. 
Though  weeping  maids,  or  aged  fires  combin'cj, 
Or  lifping  infants  join  the  matron's  tears 

Tt 


T'H'E  LADIES  OF  CASTIL2, 

To  plead  their  caufe,  my  refolution's  fix'd  : 
Thefe  outcafts  of  the  world  mall  be  cut  off, 
As  nature's  (hreds,  and  blotted  out  of  time, 

DE  HARO. 

Then  I  repair  to  vifit  and  confole 
Afflicted  worth  in  its  extreme  diftrefs. 

VELASCO. 

Go,  take  thy  leave — falute  thy  treacherous  friends, 
Ere  my  right  hand  mall  fend  them  to  the  fhades. 

[Exeunt* 


SCENE      II. 

DON  JUAN  DE  PADILLA,  fobs.— In 
DON  JUAN. 


r» 


LUE  dignity  may  acquiefe  in  ills, 
None  can  forefee,  nor  value  can  repel  ; 
Meeknefs  becomes  the  Chriftian  and  the  man? 
Nor  lefs  the  hero,  when  his  God  decrees 
The  palm  of  victory  to  a  ftronger  hand. 

Here  mimic  juftice  rears  his  fcaffbld  high— * 
I  feel  the  knife  already  at  my  throat  ; 
Death  is  the  certain  doom  of  all  mankind— 
To  learn  to  die  is  an  heroic  work  : — 
But  thus  to  die  an  ignominious  death — 
Without  a  trial,  or  the  forms  of  law, 
Pronounc'd  a  traitor — hurry 'd  from  the  flage— « 
Torn  from  exiftence  as  an  ufelefs  worm, 
By  a  bafe,  vile,  aflaffinating  hand, 
Fires  all  my  foul  -witMury  and  revenge. 

Had 


148  THE  LADIES  OF  CAST1IE, 

Had  I  have  met  my  fate  at  Villabar, 
And  as  a  foldier  fell,  and  mix'd  my  blood 
With  the  rich  ftream  that  yefterday  pour'd  off, 
(While  freedom's  genius  ftoop'd  and  drop'd  a  tear, 
And  held  a  golden  urn  in  her  right  hand, 
To  catch  the  fluid  from  each  gaping  wound, 
And  rear'd  her  altar  on  the  field  of  fame  ;) 
I'd  died  content,  and  fpurn'd  this  nether  world, 
And  glori'd  in  the  deathlefs  name  I  left  : — 
But,  though  tomorrow  fevers  me  from  time, 
My  foul  is  firm  : — I  view  this  little  globe 
Hung  on  a  fingte,  half  extingnifh'd  point  : — 
That's  not  the  (ling  which  barbs  the  hand  of  death., 
But  my  Maria — ray  lov'd,  my  virtuous  wife  : — 
Oh  !  could  oblivion  wrap  her  from  my  thoughts 
Until  we  meet  where  fouls  are  free  indeed. 

Enter  CONDE    HARD. 

Hah  !  who  bends  this  way  ? — the  Conde  Haro-— 
Rank  cowardice  in  guilt's  gigantic  garb  ! — 
Has  victory  eras'd  the  noble  flame 
Of  fympathy  in  thine  heroic  bread, 
That  thcu  can'ft  wifli,  mid'ft  glory  and  applaufej 
To  tafte  the  triumph  of  infernal  minds, 
And  thus  infult  e'en  in  the  pangs  of  death  ? — 
DE  HARO. 

Far  other  thoughts  pervade  my  friendly  bread. 
Though  in  the  field,  the  king  commands  my  fword, 
My  heart  I  give  to  virtue  in  diftrefs. 
Though  warmly  urg'd  thy  pardon  or  reprieve, 
Velafco's  will,  inexorably  flern, 
Has  fix'd  the  moment  that  completes  thy  date. 
WThat  can  I  more — to  footh  thy  wounded  mind  ? 
Say — doft  thou  wifh  to  fee  thy  lov'd -Maria  ?— 

Or 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.  145 

Or  pour  a  blefling  on  the  infant  head 

Of  thy  young  fon,  and  bid  a  laft  adieu  ? — - 

But  if  this  tender  fcene's  too  big  with  grief, 
Then  write  whatever  conjugal  love  infpires, 
Or  the  paternal  heart  would  wifh  to  fay  :— 
De  Haro's  honour  is  the  pledge  of  truth  j 
I'll  facredly  tranfmit  the  precious  charge, 
Nor  fliall  a  mortal  eye  profane  the  feals. 
DON  JUAN. 

Too  generous  De  Haro  ! — my  full  heart, 
In  tears  of  blood,  ftiall  mark  my  gratitude  ; 
And  my  lad  breath  its  benedidlion  pour 
On  worth — on  glory — dignify'd  as  thine, 
With  all  that's  noble  in  a  human  foul. 
But  ah  ! — too  flattering  to  fuch  a  wretch,-— 
To  fee  Maria  once,  is  fancy 'd  blifs 
The  Deity  has  plac'd  beyond  my  reach. 
DE  HARO, 

A  faithful  friend  mall  lead  thee  fafely  on, 
My  fvvord — my  veft — my  helmet,  thy  defence  j 
If  any  curious  prying  eye  purfues, 
Or  afks  thy  errand,  or  demands  thy  name, 
Paufe  not,  nor  fpeak,  but  fhew  De  Haro's  feal. 

But  on  the  moment  that  the  midnight  bell 
Strikes  its  laft  note,  and  grates  thy  wounded  earr 
With  the  fevereft  pang  thou  yet  haft  felt, 
Thou  muft  return — and  when  we  meet  again, 

Then  fay  my  friend 

If  one  bafe  thought  has  e'er  deform'd  my  foul. 

[Hurries  off  DON  JUAN  in  bh  OTO»  ballt. 
[Exeunt. 

N'a-  SCENE 


i5o  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE, 

SCENE       III. 
DON  VELASCO  and  DONNA  LOUISA. 

VELASCO. 

JL  RESUMPTUOUS  maid— how  durft  thou  difo- 

bey, 

And  rufh  abroad,  amid  tumultuous  fcenes, 
And  rifque  the  wrath  of  an  offended  fire  ? 

LOUISA. 

Excufe,  my  lord,  this  hafty,  bold  intrufion  ; 
The  boon  I  afk  admits  of  no  delay. 

LOUISA. 

What  means  this  daring  importuning  girl  > 
What  brought  thee  to  the  thremold  of  a  jail  ? 
Thy  trembling  geftures  and  thy  frighted  mein^    • 
Are  fad  preiages  that  relieve  thy  tongue 
Ere  it  betrays  lome  bold  accurs'd  requert. 

LOUISA. 

All  gracious  fire,  whofe  goodnefs  I  adore, 
Thus  on  my  bended  knee,  my  bleeding  heart,, 
Sweli'd  with  its  gratitude,  as  if  'twould  burfiv 
Intreats  thee  once  to  hear  Don  Francis  fpeak, 
Ere  thy  lip  dooms  to  death  the  braveft  man. 

VELASCO. 

What  int'reft  haft  thou  in  a  rebel  life,. 
That  thus  in  tears — in  agonies  of  grief — 
In  weeds  of  woe,  thou  pleadeft  for  Don  Francis  ? 

LOUISA. 

The  firft  impreflion  of  my  early  youth, 
Thine  own  injunction,  and  my  infaat  heart, 

Tsud.t 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE,  iS 

Taught  me  to  love — whate'er  Maria  lov'd — 
Her  brother.—— 

VELASCO, 

dies,  as  her  hufband  fliall  ; 

Nor  will  thy  tears  retard  the  blow 
Due  to  a  traitor's  crimes. 

LOUISA. 

Oh  !  grant  an  audience  ere  his  fate  is  feal'd, 
VELASCO. 

Think  not  I  am  deceiv'd,  audacious  maid  ! 
'Tis  not  a  childifli  fondnefs  for  Maria 
Wakes  up  a  zeal  that  mifbecomes  thy  fex — 
'Tis  bafer  paflions  fofter'd  in  thy  foul  ; 
Don  Francis  is  the  object  of  thy  love  : — 
Thy  quick  blood  flows,  and  loofe  defires  now  play 
About  thy  heart,  and  wanton  in  thy  eye  ; 
Yet  fenfe  of  fhame,  Hill  burns  thy  redden'd  cheek, 
And  cinders  the  fmooth  blufh  of  innocence  ; 
But  I've  the  means  to  cool  thy  hotbrainM  flame^ 
And  from  difgrace  my  family  retrieve. 

LOUISA. 
Oh  !  fpare  Louifa — fave  thy  haplefs  child  ! 

VELASCO. 

Think  not  to  melt  my  rigid  purpofe  down  j 
Forbear  to  praclife  hackney'd  female  arts. 
Thy  fex's  tears  have  ruin'd  half  mankind. 

My  heart  near  burfls  whene'er  I  bend  my  eye 
On  fuch  a  worthlefs  fragment  of  my  houfe  : 
But  for  Zelinda's  image  on  thy  brow 
I'd  fpurn  at  once  from  my  indignant  foul 
The  lying  femblaftce  of  io  fair  a  form. 

LOUISA* 


,5>  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE: 

LOUISA. 

By  the  dear  mem'ry  of  that  fainted  name 
Forgive  her  daughter's  agony  of  foul. 
Zelinda,  oh  ! — corapaflionate  my  woes- 
Look  down,  blefs'd  faint,  from  thy  divine  abode, 
And  teach  my  fire  to  pity  thy  Louifa. 

VELASCO. 

While  guilt  hangs  on  thy  bafe  degen'rate  lip, 
Durft  thou  appeal  to  purity  itfelf  -. — 

LOUISA. 

This  keen  reproach  diftrafts  my  tortur'd  foul— 
A  thought  unworthy  of  Zelinda's  felf," 
Ne'er  found  a  place  in  this  my  fpotlefs  heart. 
Enter  DON     PEDRO. 

VELASCO. 

Then  will  I  now  beftow  thee  cafte  and  pure, . 
And  blefs  the  noble  Pedro  with  thy  hand  ; 
Thou  art  his  bride — bound  by  my  folemn  oath, 
A  juft  reward  for  loyal ty%and  faith. . 

LOUISA. 

Now  all  ye  powers  of  earth  and  heaven,  fave 
From  this  laft  ftroke — this  worfl  of  human  ills  ! — 

PEDRO. 
I  am  too  blefs'd,  by  fuch  an  heavenly  gift. 

LOUISA. 

Revoke  thy  fentence — fnatch  me  from  perdition-*— 
Or  let  me  die  with  him  my  heart  adores. 

f  Sinks  on  her  knee  before  her  father,  jwdfainftt 

VELASCO. 

I've  gone  too  far — yet  there's  fome  curs'd  defign, 
Some  myftery  conceal'd— that  neither  (he, 
Nor  yet  De  Haro's  bold  and  dauntlefs  tongue, 

Dare 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE,  153 

Dare  ope  before  an  injur'd  father's  eye. 
Poor  lifelefs  maid  —  fure  fhe's  not  dead  ;  — 

[Lays  his  hand  on  her  forehead*. 

She  almoft  wakes  companion  in  my  breaft  : 
But  let  my  ear  be  deaf—  my  heart  be  fear'd 
To  every  foft  fenfation  of  the  foul, 
'Till  infamy  is  wip'd  from  off  my  houfe. 

PEDRO. 

Spare  her  awhile,  and  let  the  ftorm  fubfide  j 
The  mind  that's  foften'd  thus  by  love  and  grief, 
Muft,  like  the  babe  of  innocence,  be  lull'd 
And  gently  footh'd,  and  fondled  into  peace. 

and  holds  LOUISA  in  his  arms* 


See,  fhe  revives  —  fpeak  foft  and  kindly 
To  the  charming  maid.  - 

LOUISA. 

The  tardy  hand  of  death  ftill  lengthens  cut 
A  life  of  woe  -  Hah  !  where  am  I  — 

[Opens  her  eyes  and  finds  herfelfin  PEDRO' 
arms—Jbrieks,  and  /arts  from  him. 

On  earth  —  the  grave  —  in  hades  —  cr  in  hell  ?  — 
Art  thou  the  fiend  cliain'd  to  my  frighted  foul, 
To  add  new  tortures  to  the  fhades  below  ?  — 

VELASCO. 

Be  calm,  thou  frantic  girl  —          [Stops,  and  holds  Jjet\ 
Nor  thus  enrag'd  fly  from  thy  hhfbarid's  arms. 

LOUISA. 

Was  I  the  price,  for  which  at  Villabar, 
That  perjur'd  wight,  betray'd  and  fold  his  friends  ? 
Go,  minion  !  traitor  \  hide  thy  guilty  head, 
Thy  country  bluflies  that  flie  gave  thee  birth. 

VELASCO, 


JJA  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE, 

VELASCO. 
Refpecl  becomes  thy  lip — he  is  thy  lord. 

LOUISA. 

As  much  as  does  my  foul  abhor  his  name, 
If  poffible,  I  more  defpife  than  hate, 
The  infamous — the  cowardly  Don  Pedro. 

VELASCO. 

Pedro,  retire — I'll  bend  her  to  thy  will- 
She  fhall  be  thine — thou  art  my  fon — 
By  all  the  faints  and  angels  I  adore, 
This  eve  (hall  folemnize  the  nuptial  rights  ; 
Ere  Francis  dies — let  consummation  crown 
I}on  Pedro's  wifh,  and  wake  full  vengeance  up. 

[Exit  FEDRO* 
LOUISA. 

AkiS  !  my  fire — Oh  !  let  religion  plead  :-*- 
Forgive  thy  child,  and  blefs  me  ere  I  die. 
Pardon  the  purpofe  of  my  daring  foul  : 
But  ere  I  yield,  I'll  bare  my  filial  breaft, 
Meet  the  drawn  dagger's  point,  and  kifs  the  poignard 
In  my  father's  hand — uplift  in  wrath, 
Its  edge  to  bury  in  this  fpotlefs  bread — 
A  breaft  replete  with  duty  and  refpecl — 
With  every  fentiment  that  heaven  requires,- 
Or  to  paternal  or  conjugal  love — 
From  thy  fond  daughter,  or  Don  Francis*  wife. 

VELASCO. 
Don  Francis'  wife  ! — Heaven  blaft  my  ears  !— 

LOUISA. 

His  wife — 'his  wedded  wife — 
Nor  let  the  grave,  the  facred  tie  diflolve  : 
By  the  fame  fanclion  let  us  perifii  both, 
Or  both  be  blefs'd,  and  by  thy  pardon  live. 

VELASCG. 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.  155 

VELASCO. 

Could  my  Louifa  proftitute  her  fame  ; 
In  a  mad  fit  of  wanton  love,  entail 
Difgrace  eternal,  on  the  illuftrious  name 
Of  Don  Velafco  !—  abandon'd  girl  !— 
Then  take  rny  fword,  and  ufe  it  as  ye  lift  ; 
Thy  paramour  this  moment  meets  the  death 
Thy  perfidy  extorts  and  his  deferves.       [Exit  VELASCQ, 


SCENE      IV. 

before  DON  JUAN'S  Houfe. 
DON  JUAN  DE  PADILLA  and  DON  FRANCIS. 

-DoN  JUAN. 

JL  RIEND    of   my  early  youth — my  brave   DOR 

Francis — 

Unlike  the  world — a  friend  in  fortune's  wane  ; 
Thou  haft  a  foul  that  dares  to  mix  wilrh  grief, 
And  kindly  feek'ft  thy  wretched  fifter  out 
To  footh  the  anguifh  of  extreme  diftrefs. 
But  how  did'ft  thou  efcape  thy  gloomy  cell  ? — 
Or  by  what  means  elude  the  watchful  guard  ?-— 

FRANCIS. 

In  fables  clad,  my  face  bedew 'd  with  tears, 
The  guards  fuppos'd  I  was  thy  noble  fire, 
Who  had  pennifTion  to  embrace  his  fon, 
Ere  death  had  feal'd  an  heiflefs  father's  woe= 
But  on  parole,  I  have  De  Haro's  leave 
To  fly  to  Charles,  and  in  Velafco 's  name.j 

To 


*5*  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE. 

To  fue  for  pardon  from  the  emperor's  hand, 
And  claim  my  bride  by  his  Zelinda's  ring  : — » 
He  gave  me  both  his  fignet  and  command, 
And  bade  me  on  the  moment  hade  away  ; 
The  next  he  faid  perhaps  betray'd  to  death. 
I  caught  the  letters  with  a  rapturous  hand, 
And  kifs'd  the  feals,  and  dropt  a  grateful  tear  ; 
I've  waited  but  to  bid  my  friend  adieu, 
But  not  to  fee  thy  wife  till  I  return. 

DON  JUAN. 

Ah  ! — if  thou  can'ft  retrieve  fo  brave  a  life, 
Protect  Maria,  and  her  infant  fon  ; 
Let  them  not  languifh  in  a  fervile  land, 
To  watch  the  nod  of  fome  imperious  lord. 
Then  tell  the  gazing  citizens,  who  o'er 
My  breathlefs  corpfe,  before  the  morrow  clofe, 
Will  weep,  and  figh,  and  curfe  my  haplefs  fate, 
.That  they  have  cherifh'd  many  valiant  fons, 
Who  amply  may  avenge  my  early  death, 
And  teach  the  world  that  fortune  ne'er  ftands  ftill  :— 
In  the  routine  of  her  uncertain  wheel, 
She  loon  may  jilt  her  fondled,  favour'd  fons. 
The  fycophant  and  prince  may  both  Ipe  taught, 
A  fceptre's  but  the  plaything  of  a  day. 
Then  let  my  father,  noble  Lopez,  know 
Don  yuan  died,  as  Lopez'  fon  mould  die, 
A  dauntlefs  martyr  in  his  country's  caufe, 

FRANCIS. 

Thy  orders  fliall  be  punctually  obey'd. 
I  with  my  blood  will  feal  the  facred  charge  ; 
Though  I  could  willing  leave  fo  bafe  a  world, 
And  mare  with  thee,  the  glory  of  thy  death  j 
Yet,  for  Louifa's  fake,  I   wift  to  live, 

DON 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE,  157 

DON  JUAN. 

Thou  mart  away — 'tis  death  to  linger  here— 
*Tis  raflmefs  in  extreme — thou  can't  efcape 
The  prying  eyes  that  lurk  for  human  blood  : — 
Thy  niein  and  afpect  cannot  be  conceal 'd — 
Thy  ioul  fhines  through,  and  virtue's  here  a  crime. 

[Exeunt. 


SCENE      V. 

DON  JUAN's  Hottfe— DONNA  MARIA  hotting  pen- 
fvvfly  into  a  Garden  from  her  Apartment — Thunder  and 
Lightning. 

MARIA. 


OSE  folemn  groves — thofe  fpacious  (haded 

walks, 

Whofe  lofty  tops  falute  the  fkirted  clouds, 
And  fpeak  the  grandeur  of  their  ancient  lords, 
Bend  down  their  heads,  refponfive,  to  the  flues, 
Which  murmur  thunders  o'er  Hefperiafo  fall. 
Sure  nature  joins  to  bend  my  fpirits  down, 
And  rive  the  bolts  through  my  diftra&ed  foul, " 
That  diftant  thunders  make  the  trembling  dome, 
And  dorms  irruptive  tear  the  fhatter'd  Ikies. 

Enter  JUAN  in  the  Amour  and  Habit  of  a  royal  Officer*— • 

MARIA  Jiarting,  accojls  him, 

Hah  ! — dar'ft  thou  come  alone,  thou  mifcreant  flave  ! 
Think'ft  thou  that  mine  is  fuch  a  daftard  foul 
To  yield  at  fight  of  one  of  Charles's  band  ?— • 
My  fmgle  arm  ill-all  be  a  match  for  thine. 

O  DON 


13?  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE. 

DON  JUAN. 
This  interview — this  moment  is  my  own          — 

[Approaching. 
MARIA. 

Off,  ruffian,  off! — or  by  the  powers  above, 
The  next  (hall  fix  a  dagger  in  thy  heart. 

[Dra<ws  a  po'fgnard  from  under  her  robe, 

DON  JUAN. 

On  this  laft  night  that  thy  Padilla  lives, 
Oh  !  let  me  clafp  thee  to  my  faithful  breaft. 

[Throws  off  bis  dlfguiff. 

MARIA. 

Immortal  powers !— Say,  do  my  eyes  behold 
The  injur'd  ghoft  of  my  deceafed  lord  ? 
Or  docs  my  hufband — my  Don  Juan  live  ?— 

DON  JUAN. 

fie  lives  indeed — this  one  fhort  hour  he  lives. 
When  through  the  fliarpeft  dorms  of  life  he  fees 
Thee  firmly  /land — by  fortitude  fecur'd, 
*Tis  worth  a  world  to  fold  thee  to  my  heart. 

MARIA. 

Did  not  my  lord — my  lov'd  Padilla  fall, 
Amidft  the  .carnage  of  the  noon  tide  rout  ? — . 

DON  JUAN. 

The  faithful  Sccia  reported  thus, 
Left  thou  fbould'ft  perifh  in  fome  rafh  attempt 
To  fee  thy  Juan,  and  neglect  thy  fon. 
But  a  feverer  doom  awaits  my  fate  ; 
I,  -on  the  morrow,  as  a  traitor  die. 

MARIA. 

Jehovah  floop,  and  lend  thy  potent  arm, 
To  (hatch  the  virtuous  from  fo  vile  a  fate  ; 

Or 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.  ij 

Or  let  thefe  curling  fires,  which,  from  the  North, 
Emblazon  nature's  face  from  pole  to  pole, 
f    In  mantling  frames,  in  one  devouring  wreck, 
Sweep  down  the  ftars  and  crufli  this  nether  worlds 

DON  JUAN. 

The  Deity  enwraps  his  dark  decrees 
Beyond  the  ken  of  man's  prefumptuous  eye  : — 
Yet  fouls  fublime,  ferenely  look  abroad^ 
And  bid  the  howling  tempefts  rage  in  vain. 
Though  livid  lightnings  blaze  from  north  to  fouthj 
The  tempers  of  this  laft  tremendous  night 
Are  as  the  breeze  that  wafts  the  gentle  bark 
Down  the  ftill  tide,  when  every  gale  is  hufli'd— 
If  my  Maria's  mind  fupports  its  poife, 
And  fmiles,  fuperiour  to  the  mocks  of  fate, 
They  cannot  reach  the  foul  that  fpurns  the  world- 
Its  tinfel'd  toys — its  titles,  and  its  wealth. 
The  tribute  of  a  life,  I  hold  but  finall, 
Could  it  repurchafe  liberty  to  Spain  :— 
Yet  he  is  free — and  he  alone  is  free — 
Who  conquers  paffion,  and  fubjefls  his  will^ 
When  his  misfortunes  thicken  in  the*&Ies. 

MARIA. 

No  more,  my  lord — the  teft  is  too  fevere— 
I  feel  my  boafted  fortitude  will  fail. 

DON  JUAN. 

Oh  !  fpare  my  hea-rt 

The  plaintive  accents  of  thy  voice  reftrain, 
Nor  lharpen,  by  thy  tears,  the  pangs  of  death.- 
My  heart  I  leave — nought  elfe  can  I  beftow,. 
And  once  ye  thought  the  world  could  give  no  moret 

MARIA, 


i6o  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE, 

MARIA. 

Ah  t — every  tender  pang  that  woe  can  paint, 
Or  for  my  country — or  my  much  lov-'d  lord, 
Diftracls  and  wounds  my  agitated  breaft. 

DON  JUAN. 

Forbear  to  pain  my  tortur'd  foul  afrefh  ; 
Exert  thyfelf — magnanimoufly  ftand, 
And  fave  thy  fon- — the  city,  and  thyfelf. 
Protect  and  guard  the  lovely  fmiling  boy, 
The  only  pledge  of  our  unfpotted  loves, 
'Till  he,  enraptur'd,  hangs  upon  thy  lip  ; 
While  his  bright  eyeballs  fwim  in  filial  tears, 
To  hear  the  accents  of  his  dying  fire, 
Tenfold  enhanc'd  by  thy  defcriptive  tongue. 

MARIA. 

Maternal  foftnefs  weakens  my  refolve, 
And  wakes  new  fears — thou  deareft,  beft  of  men, 
Torn  from  thy  fide,  Fin  levelled  with  my  fex. 
The  wife — the  mother — make  me  lefs  than  woman. 
[MARIA  opens  an  adjacent  apartment,  an 
the  jjifant  in  the  arms  of  his  nurfe. 

DON  JUAN. 

Let  angel  innocence  lie  foft  and  (till, 
Nor  call  the  dew  drops  to  the  infant  eye 
By  fympathetic,  fond,  parental  tears. 

Tell  him,  the  laft  bequert  his  father  gave, 
The  only  legacy  that  heaven  has  lent, 
Was  this  ftria:  charge,  breath'd  in  his  lateft  figh, 
Be  good,  and  juft,  as  thou  art  nobly  born, 
Nor  yield  thy  liberty  but  with  thy  life. 

[JuAN  'wipes  off  a  tear,  and  attempts  t9 
withdraw  in  filence. 

MARIA. 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE,  1 

MARIA. 
Oh  ?  leave  me  not,  thus  wretched  and  forlorn  !— ~ 

DON  JUAN. 
How  like  a  thief  has  time  flol'n  on  my  wifh  ! — 

\Cl9ck  ftrikes  one. 

Muft  I  away — hah  ! — this  is  death — 
The  bitternefs  of  death.— — 
MARIA. 

Wilt  thou  return,  and  on  the  fcaffbld  bare 
Thy  yielding  neek,  and  as  a  traitor  die  ? 

DON  JUAN. 

Though  tottering  on  the  margin  of  the  grave-, 
For  Charles's  fortune  balanc'd  in  the  fcale, 
Or  all  the  gold  in  Montezuma's-  realm> 
I'd  not  exchange  for  probity  of  foul, 
Unfulli'd  honour,  and  unblafted  fame. 

MARIA. 

Is  fentence  paff — irrevocably  part — 
Then  try  the  courage  of  a  female  heart, 
And  let  me  die  with  thee — the  treafons  I  avow-— 
The  crime  is  mine  : — I  can  as  bravely  die, 
As  e'er  a  Grecian,  or  a  Roman  dame — 
And  fmile  at  Portia's  celebrated  feat, 
Who  drew  her  blood  to  worm  a  fecref  out  : — 
I'll  kifs  the  glittering  ax  and  hug  the  fhroud 
That  wraps  me  ever  from  a  fervile  world. 

DON  JUAN. 

Retard  me  not — but  bid  me  hafte  away, 
Thy  virtue's  rais'd  fo  far  above  thy  fex, 
Come  plight  thy  vow,  thy  facred,  faithful  vow, 
That  fortune's  rougheft  blafts,  blight  not-  thy  fame, 
This  moment,  by  appointment,  is  my  friend's, 
It  is  the  laft  that  time  has  lent  to  love  ; — 
My  honour  calls — her  voice  I  muft  obey,  [Going, 

O  a 


i62  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE. 

MARIA. 

Oh  flay  !—  Oh  flay  !—  'twas  not  the  midnight  toll 
One  hour  more  let  envious  time  beftow. 

DON  JUAN. 

My  throbbing  heart  from  guiie  was  ever  free  : 
No  breach  of  faith  {hall  mark  me  for  a  knave. 
Thou  doft  not  wifh  —  not  ev'n  to  purchafe'  life, 
To  fluin  my  honour  by  a  fraudful  deed  :  — 
No  —  when  I'm  fhrouded  in  my  peaceful  tomb, 
No  impious,  fervile  tongue  mall  e'er  reproach 
My  name  —  my  memory  —  my  life,  or  fame. 
Adieu  !  my  love  —  Adieu  !  to  life  and  time  — 
One  laft  embrace,  and  I  am  gone  —  forever. 

{Embraces^  and  retires 

MARIA. 

Oh  I  harfh  and  cruel  found  —  adieu  !  —  forever  — 
He's  gone  - 

And  heav'n's  broad  eye  beholds  the  fatal  flroke, 
And  thunders  vengeance  from  the  louring  Ikies. 
i'  -  .  .....  ~~  —  -  <-[A  folemn 


When  his  great  foul  afcends  the  broad  expanfe, 
Let  angels  guard  him  through  the  widen'd  dome. 

But  (hall  Maria  fhroud  herfelf  in  grief, 
And  fink  beneath  life's  difappointed  hopes, 
A  feeble  vi6lim  to  her  own  defpair  ?  — 

A  foul,  infpir'd  by  freedom's  genial  warmth, 
Expands  —  grows  firm  —  and  by  refiftance,  ftrong  : 
The  moft  fuccefsful  prince  that  offers  life, 
And  bids  me  live  upon  ignoble  terms, 
Shall  learn  from  me  that  virtue  feldom  fears.— 
Death  kindly  opes  a  thoufand  friendly  gates, 
And  freedom  waits  to  guard  her  votaries  through. 

[Exit. 
ACT 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.  163 

ACT          V. 

SCENE          I. 

MARIA,  ivlth  her  young  Son  clad  in  mourning — a  Standard 
borne  before  him,  on  ivbich  is  represented  his  Father's 
Death — accompanied  by  ZAMORA  and  a  Procejfion  of 
Friends— foe  addrejfes  the  Citizens}  Soldiers,  fife.  &c.  &c. 

JLJEHOLD,  ye  virtuous  citizens  of  Spain, 
The  remnant  of  Don  Juan's  noble  houfe  ; 
See  here  the  fon  of  your  late  murder'd  lord  ; 
Behold  his  infant  innocence  that  weeps 
A  father's  fall,  ere  yet  he'd  learn'd  to  liip 
That  facred  name,  which  cruelty  dififolv'd. 

If  heaven  and  earth  decree  the  world  to  Charles— 
If  Spain's  prepar'd  to  wear  the  badge  of  flaves, 
And  degradation  marks  the  bleeding  realm — 
Then,  in  the  front  of  this  refpe£led  band, 
Grant  me  one  boon — that  yet  fome  gen'rous  arn^ 
Unftain'd  by  vice,  or  dip'd  in  guiltlefs  blood, 
Would  finite  the  bread  of  this  his  infant  fon, 
And  lay  him  gently  in  his  father's  tomb, 
As  the  lafl  heir  of  Spain's  expiring  worth 
That  freedom's  genius  offers  to  the  gods  : — 
She  fioop'd,  and  dip'd  her  target  in  the  gore 
That  copious  rufh'd  from  noble  Juan's  wounds. 
Tis  the  cement,  fhe  cry'd,  in  ftronger  league 
To  bind  the  liberal  and  unite  the  brave. 

'Tis  in  thine  option,  wifely  did  ye  judge, 
To  flourifh  long  beneath  her  lenient  reign  ; 

But  if,  ungratefully,  ye  fpurn  the  gift, 

And 


1 54  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE. 

And  fly  the  field,  and  yield  the  proffer'd  prizs— 
Bend  thy  weak  necks,  and  fervilely  fubmit, 
Affronted  virtue  leaves  fuch  daftard  flaves 
To  faint  and  tremble  at  a  defpot's  nod. 

I,  for  myfelf,  a  bolder  part  defign  ; 
And  here,  before  the  foldiers  and  the  Cortes, 
In  prefence  of  the  eternal  King,  I  Avear, 
Moft  folemnly  I  bind  my  free  born  foul, 
Ere  I  will  live  a  (lave,  and  kifs  the  hand 
That  o'er  my  country  clanks  a  fervile  chain, 
I'll  light  the  towers,  and  perifh  in  the  flames,     • 
And  fmfle  and  triumph  in  the  general  wreck. 

Come,  (hew  one  fample  of  heroic  worth, 
Ere  ancient  Spain,  the  glory  of  the  weft, 
Bends  abjeft  down — by  all  the  nations  fcorn'd  :— • 
Secure  the  city — barricade  the  gates, 
And  meet  me  ami'd  with  all  the  faithful  bands  : 
I'll  head  the  troops,  and  mount  the  prancing  fteed  ; 
The  courier  guide,  and  vengeance  pour  along 
Axnidfl  the  ranks,  and  teach  the  flaves  of  Charles 
Not  Semiramis*  or  Zenobia's  fame 
Outftrips  the  glory  of  Maria's  name. 

[Exit, 
[The  people  fioutj  andfy.  tc  arms. 


SCENE 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE,  165 

SCENE       II. 

f- 

A  Battle  wltbaut—tke  City  taken  by  CONDE  HARO— Dotu 
NA  MARIA  fled  to  the  Citadel — the  little  Son  of  DoJI 
JUAN  afleep  on  a  Sofa— MARIA  weeping  over  him. 

MARIA. 

A  HOUGH  all  is  loft,  and  fubjugated  Spain 
Lies  bleeding  at  the  footftool  of  a  king, 
I  yet  would  live,  for  this  young  cherub's  fake  :— 
Yet  what  mfitres  his  mind  unftain'd  and  pure  ? 
Nurtured  in  venal,  fycophantic  fchools — 
Eras'd  each  fterling  virtue  of  the  foul — 
Debas'd — new  coin'd  in  flattery's  fervile  mint, 
He  may  become  a  pander  to  a  prince. 
Ah  ! — thus  to  fee  Don  Juan's  fon  enflav'd, 
Shocks  more  than  death  in  its  moft  frightful  form. 
O  guard  him,  angels — guard  him,  powers  fupreme, 
From  the  contagion  of  each  vulgar  vice, 
Or  the  more  fplendid  guilt  that  (talks  in  courts  !— 

Enter  CONDE    HARO. 
Why  this  frefh  infolence,  thou  barbarous  man  I 
Thus  to  obtrude  and  doubly  wound  my  foul, 
And  blaft  my  eyes  by  fuch  a  hated  fight, 
The  blood  fUin'd  murd'rer  of  my  injur'd  lord. 

DEHARO. 
O  hear  me  once,  and  then  pronounce  my  doom. 

MARIA. 

Thy  every  word  accumulates  thy  guilt, 
And  barbs  the  pointed  dagger  in  my  breaft. 


166  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE, 

DE  HARD. 

Fain  would  I  footh  and  mitigate  thy  grief. 

[Advancing* 
MARIA. 

O  death  relieve,  and  fhroud  from  mortal  eye — 
Give  my  indignant  foul  a  larger  field — 
It  burns — it  beats — it  burfts — oh  !  give  it  Way> 
Ere  it  in  atoms  tears  thy  trembling  frame — 
This  fhatter'd  cafement  opes — [Lays  her  hand  on  her  lire  aft, 

Traitor,  ftand  off 

Or,  like  a  furious  fpeclre,  bath'd  in  blood, 
Arm'd  with  the  fangs  of  horror  and  defpair, 
It  haftens  on,  and  drags  thee  down  to  hell. 

[Runs  Mildly  acrofs  the  ft  age. 
DE  HARO. 

Though  nature  works  this  ftorm  of  paflfion  up, 
Reafon  muft  calm,  and  juftice  hear  my  plea. 

[Follows,  and  detains  her* 

MARIA. 

By  force  detain'd  a  prifoner — a  fiave— - 
Oh  !  heavens  and  earth,  and  gods  and  men  relieve— 
Revenge  this  outrage  on  my  feeble  fex  ! 

DE  HARO. 

Not  difrefpecl — 'tis  veneration  holds  ;— 
The  Conde  Haro's  not  the  guilty  thing, 
Thy  fufferings,  fate,  and  fortune  reprefent. 
I  fought  Don  Juan  as  my  duty  urg'd, 
Yet  my  heart  bled  when  brave  Padilla  fell  j— 
Now  once  permit — I'll  lay  a  bofom  ope, 
And  bare  a  breaft  that  heaven  itfelf  may  read. 
The  pureft  paflion  had  fubdu'd  my  heart, 
Before  ill  fortune  made  me  Juan's  foe  j 
O  !  heav'n  forgive — I  lov'd  his  virtuous  wife, 

And 
, 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE,  167 

Anc^fecret  bore  the'heart  corroding  pangs. 
I  lov'd  in  filence — fmother'd  all  my  flame — • 
While  honour — juftice — every  facred  tie, 
Had  made  its  utterance  the  blacked  crime. 

MARIA. 

And  doft  thou  think  to  mitigate  thy  guilt, 
Thus  to  torment  the  brave  Don  Juan's  wife  ? — 
To  add  to  wretchednefs — to  fill  up  woe — 
Force  her  to  hear  thy  black  adulterous  tongue  ? — 
Alas  !  the  difmal  croak — the  voice  of  love 
From  hell's  dark  gloom,  would  lefs  diiinay  than  thine. 

DE  HARO. 

I  wept  the  pangs  that  thy  great  foul  muft  feel 
When  thy  Padilla  was  my  prifoner  made. 
Juft  heaven  can  witnefs  what  my  foul  endur'd 
When  martial  law  announc'd  his  forfeit,  life— 
A  debt  his  fovereign  and  the  ftate  might  claim. 
My  ear  reluctant,  heard  the  fentence  pafs'd, 
And  inftant  death  decreed  to  worth  like  hi;:, 

MARIA. 

Forbear  thy  falfe  difiimulating  (trains  ; 
Thy  tongue  pronounc'd  the  vile  inglorious  doom, 
That  wrap'd  in  death  the  hero  and  the  faint  > 
And  now  complet'ft  the  meafure  of  thy  guilt, 
Thus  by  compulfion,  to  detain  his  wife, 
To  hear  a  moment -thy  detefted  love. 

DE  HARO. 
What  furious  pafllons  play  in  that  fair  bread  !  — 

MARIA. 

Old  time  fhall  tell,  and  every  age  record, 
Don  Juan's  worth,  contrafted  with  thy  guilt,* 
When  curious  eyes  (hall  feek  the  mouldering  tomb  j 
Where  freedom  wades  in  tears  befide  the  turf, 

And 

i 


*68  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE. 

And  points  the  ftranger  to  the  facred  fpot, 
Where  death  enrols  her  laft  diftinguifli'd  fan, 
•Urg'd  to  his  fate  by  probity  and  zeal, 
To  fave  his  country  from  a  fervile  yoke. 
DE  HARO. 

I,  the  firft  witnefs  of  his  merit  (land — 
A  generous  with  to  fave  and  blefs  mankind, 
Urg'd  him  to  glory  in  a  devious  path  ; 
No  man  can  tread,  but  on  perdition's  brink, 
While  (landing  armies  fwell  the  monarch's  train, 
And  kingdoms  bend,  and  empires  own  the  claim, 
Of  mighty  Charles,  to  keep  the  world  in  awe. 
MARIA. 

Away,  thou  coward  ! — cringing,  daftard  tfave  ! 
<3o  fawn  on  kings,  and  boaft  thy  prowefs  there  ; 
Tell  that  the  brave,  who  ne'er  could  meanly  bend, 
By  cowardice  were  hurry 'd  to  the  block  : 
*Twas  coward  fear  that  haften'd  Juan's  death  : 
As  fortune  play'd  him  once  a  lofing  game, 
Thou  durft  not  let  him  live  another  day. 
Led  his  £oocl  genius  might  have  lent  the  means 
To  extricate  his  country  and  himfelf, 
Thou'ft  added  murder  to  thy  lift  of  crimes. 

DE  HARO. 

Reproach  like  this  from  any  tongue  but  thine, 
Should  on  itfelf  recoil,  and  blad  the  lip 
That  wounds  my  honour — ne'er  before  impeach'd. 

MARIA. 

Refent  it  as  thou  ought — I'm  not  afraid 
Of  Conde  Haro's  fword — (Irike  here,  aflalTin  ! 

[Lays  her  hand  on  her  breaft, 
And  complete  thy  work — dar'ft  thou  not  (Irike, 

Who  haft  beheld  Don  Juan  on  a  fcaffold, 

Breathlefs 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.  1* 

"Breathlefs  and  pale,  and  as  a  felon  die? — 
•Give  me  a  fword,  I'll  meafure  it  with  thine, 
For  by  the -powers  above,  to  thee  I  fvvear, 
Maria  lives  but  to  avenge  his  death. 

DE  HARO. 

What  lionefs  has  nurs'd  thy  tender  years  ? 
Or  can'fl  thou  feel  for  every  pain  but  mine  ? 

MARIA. 
Then  let  me  hafle,  and  fly  thy  light  forever, 

DE  HARO. 

Pardon  me,  madam,  while  I  urge  my  fuit ; 
I  have  feme  merit — fo  thy  Juan  thought — 
"When  grateful  tears  ran  down  his.  manly  cheek* 
I  have  one  plea  that  may  reftore  my  fame. 
A  fhort  adieu  permitted  by  Velafco, 
J  left  my  tent,  and  haften'd  to  Don  Juan, 
To  (both  the  forrows  of  his  noble  foul, 
And  make  the  tenders  of  a  generous  friend. 
'Twas  his  laft  wifti — the  lateft  boon  of  life, 
To  fee  thee  once,  before  the  fatal  ftroke, 
Sever'd  forever  from  the  world's  ben:  gift  :— • 
I,  in  a  foldier's  habit,  fent  him  on, 
As  with  a  meflage  from  De  Haro's  hand, 
Myfelf  a  prifoner  till  he  fhould  return  ; 
As  well  I  knew,  not  wealth,  or  crowns,  or  life, 
Nor  thy  fuperiour  charms,  would  tempt  abufe 
Of  confidence  thus  .plac'd  in  honour's  breaft. 

MAB.IA. 

Immortal  powers  ! — am  I  a  debtor  made 
For  the  lad  blifsful  moment  of  my  life, 
To  him  my  foul,  of  all  mankind,  abhors  ? 

DE  HARO. 
The  debt  was  canceli'd  when  he  call'd  me,  friend, 

P  And 


i7o  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE. 

And  bade  me,  with  a  tender,  gentle  hand, 
Wipe  off  Maria's  tears,  and  fave  her  fon, 
And  guard  them  both  from  peril  and  difgrace  ; 
Not  honour's  felf,  or  gratitude,  or  love, 
Can  plead  a  claim  his  merit  don't  erafe. 
The  godlike  pleafure  of  conferring  good 
On  hearts  fo  worthy,  leaves  me  in  arrears  :— « 
I  ftand  indebted  to  thy  noble  -lord. 

MARIA. 

To  what  extremes  is  human  nature  wrought  !— 
Can  dignity  and  real  greatnefs  dwell, 
Thus  mix'd  and  blended,  in  a  fervile  foul  ? — 
Or  haft  thou  feen  thy  error,  and  renounc'd 
The  bloody  ftandard  of  the  tyrant  Charles  ? — 
To  make  atonement  to  theinjur'd  dead, 
-Come,  wield  thy  fword  in  a  more  glorious  caufe, 
And  lend  thine  arm  to  make  thy  country  free. 

DE  HARO. 
Tempt  not  my  loyalty,  nor  wound  my  fame.-  •    • 

MARIA. 

If  there  is  aught  of  truth  or  love  in  thee — 
Haft  thou  a  wiili  to  fee  Maria  more— 
.  Thefe  are  the  terms  from  which  (he'll  ne'er  recede* 
But  fee  thy  vengeful  (ire  bends  this  way  ; — 
Where  fhall  I  find  an  afylum  for  woe  ? 

DE  HARO. 

Live  as  a  queen  in  Don  Emanuel's  court, 
A  trufty  friend  efcorts  thy  fon  and  thee 
To  Portugal's  more  hofpitable  (hore, 
Beyond  the  reach  of  Don  Velafco's  rage, 
*Ti!l  time  reftore  thy  peace,  and  make  thee  mine. 

[MARIA  aW  her  fon  burned  off  the  Jlage  by 
DE  H  A  R  o '  s  friends  and  guards. 

[Exit, 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE. 

SCENE        III. 
DON  VELASCO  and  CONDE  HARO, 


Wi 


VELASCO. 


RETCH  that  thou  art  !—thou  hafl  debaa-M 

the  houfe, 

The  noble  name — the  blood  of  Don  Velafco. 
DE  HARO. 

None  but  thyfelf,  fbould,  with  impunity, 
Upbraid  a  man,  whofe  honour  ne'er  was  ftain'd 
By  one  bafe  aft — whofe  foul  difdains  a  thought 
But  what  ennobles  both  thy  fan  and  thee. 
VELASCO. 

My  fon — no,  I  renounce  the  claim, 
And  rafe  thy  memory  from  thy  blafted  line  j 
A  mean  foul,  proftrate  at  a  woman's  foot-— 
A  traitorefs,  both  to  her  God  and  king, 
Was  ne'er  ally'd  to  the  Velafcan  blood. 
DE  HARO. 

If  virtue  ftands  at  variance  with  worth, 
Or  if  true  greatnefs  can  abufe  the  wretched, 
Then  may  iny  father's  much  revered  lip, 
With  cruel  infult,  wound  the  faireft  fame. 
Thou  knoweft  not  the  luftre  that  adorns 
Maria's  foul,  and  lifts  her  o'er  her  fex — 
The  virtues  that  combine  to  make  her  great  i 
Her  angel  form  commands  profound  refpecT:  ; 
Her  beauty,  grace,  her  conftancy  and  truth— 
Her  noble  mind  and  energy  of  thought, 

Would  dignify  the  moft  illufirious  name. 

VELASCO* 


j7?  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE. 

VELASCO. 

Thy  love  tales  whine  in  her  difdainful  ear. 
This  idle,  rapturous  pageantry  of  words, 
This  play  of  fancy,  fann'd  by  luftful  gales,. 
Thefe  loofe,  mad  ravings  of  a  hot  brain'd  youtlif 
Have  made  me  fick  of  life.     Oh  !  how  debas'd 

Is  honour — duty — gratitude  and  fame  ! 

How  are  thy  laurels  ftain'd,  and  meanly  laid 

Beneath  the  pedeftal  of  wanton  love  ; 

A  tranfient  beam,  fhot  from  a  forc'refs'  eye, 

Whom  mercy  yet  lias  fpar'd  to  rave  and  weep 

Hrr  hufband's  fall — her  difappointed  pride.* 

But  by  the  eternal  thunderer  above, 

She  fhall  not  triumph  thus—————— 

Mine  aged  arm,  inur'd  to  war  and  blood, 
Is  not  fo  worn  by  time,  nor  yet  fo  weak, 
But  it  can  fend  her  murmuring  foul  to  hell ; 
Kay,  harder  ftill,  has  ftrength  to  grafp  the  hilt, 
And  plunge  this  vet'ran  fword  in  thy  bafe  bread, 
To  let  out  that  falfe  blood  that  taints  thy  foul 
And  poifons  all  my  peace. 

DE  HARO. 

What  means  my  fire  ? 

VELASCO. 
To  make  thee  worthy  of  thy  noble  name.—-* 

DE  HARO. 

If  death  alone  entitles  to  the  claim, 
I  fear  it  not  in  any  form  but  this. 

[Retires  backward \  and  bows  reftecifulfy  as  going 

VELASCO. 

Fly  not  my  vengeance — daftard — villain — flave  !— • 
DE  HARO. 

Hah  !— daftwd—  villain — fiave— Oh  !  heavens  ! 

Caii 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE  *73 

Gan  the  great  God  command  I  fhould  fubmit 
To  fuch  reproach — ev'n  from  a  father's  lip  ? — 

[Suddenly  lays  bis  hand  on  his  fix  on!, 

VELASCO. 

Come,  try  its  point  agaiuft  my  wounded  bread, 
Or  hoary  head,  grown  grey,  in  honour's  path— 
That  bends  and  bows  -and"  blumes  for  his  fon. 

DE  HARO. 

Not  the  rich  fands  of  Chili  or  Pern, 
Nor  all  the  wealth  Potofi  has  in  (lore, 
Shall  bribe  me  from  my  duty  and  refpeft. 
My  filial  love  and  reverence  for  thee.     [Bends  on  bis  knee, 
VELASCO. 

I  do  not  wifh-to  make  thee  more  a  coward. - 

DE  HARO. 
A  coward — traitor — villain  and  a  flave  !— 

My  honour  ftain'd  by  epithets  fo  vile. 

None  but  thylelf  within  this  ample  round, 
Should  dare  unite  a  bafe,  opprobrious  term 
With  Conde  Haro's  name — but  thou'rt  my  fire- 
Then  take  a  life  I  wifh  not  to  preferve. 

[Throws  his  fword  from  him,  and  bares  his  breajt* 

VELASCO. 

Take  up  thy  dagger — plunge  it  in  my  breaft,. 
Or  give  thy  foolifh  paflion  to  the  winds. 
DE  HARO. 

No — neither; 

VELASCO. 

Bring  back  the  fugitive  to  juftice'  arm— >• 
Renounce  thy  love. 

DE  HARO. 
P  a-- 


174  THE  LADIE§  OF  CASTILE. 

VELA  sco. 

Never! 

DE  HARD. 

Not  if  Maria  hears  my  faithful  vows — 
"lis  honour,  weakh  and  empire  to  my  foul. 

VELASCO. 

Fly  from  my  vengeful  hand— thou'rt  not  my  fon— • 
I've  been  deceiv'd — alas  !  too  long  deceiv'd. 
Thou  art  fome  low — fome  vile  importer — palm'd 
Upon  my  houfe — and  nature  feels  no  pang, 
To  fend  thy  foul  to  wander  with  the  dead. 

{Makes  a  furious  pafe  at  DE  HARD,  but  h  f» 
enraged  he  trembles  and  drops  bis  fwot'd* 

DE  HARO. 

When  nature  mail  cut  off  thy  thread  of  life, 
I'll  meet  thee  there,  by  thy  Zelinda's  fide — • 
That  angel  form  that  gave  a  fon  to  thee, 

VELASCO. 

Hah  ! — my  Zelinda — her  facred  name  f 

Has  wak'd  the  father  up,  and  checks  my  rage  ;-— 
Oh  !  had  this  rafli,  this  guilty  hand  fent  down 
The  mangled  ghoft  of  her  belov'd  De  Haro-— 
Her  darling  fon — flain  by  a  lather's  hand — 
In  Hades  to  accufe  his  barbarous  heart 
For  fuch  an  outrage  on  fo  brave  a  fon  ; — 
Both  wandering  fpirits,  and  the  faints  above> 
Alike  would  curfe  his  cruelty  and  crime  ; — 
But  as  thy  fword — thy  valiant  conquering  arm 
Has  quell'd  rebellion,  arid  cut  off  their  chiefs, 

Let  me  in  treat 

[Enter-  DON  FRANCIS — a  bloody  fooord 
extenik'd  in  bis  hand. 

Hah  !  what  do  I  fee  ?— 

Heav'n  blad  my  eyes  ! — Say,  can  Con  Francis  live  ?— 


THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.  175 

FRANCIS. 
Thou  fee'ft  thy  duteoits  foil  — 


The  wedded  hufband  of  thy  lov>d  Louifa  — 
Thou  fee'ft  his  fword  wet  with  the  blood  of  Pedro, 
Who  would  have  robb'd  me  of  my  lovely  bride  ; 
His  coward  ghoft  now  murmurs  in  the  (hades, 
And  groans  repentance  for  his  faithlefs  deeds.      \ 
VELASCO. 

Thy  rebel  infolence  my  hand  fhall  crufli 
When  thou  haft  told  by  what  infernal  fiend, 
Or  hellifh  arts,  thy  life's  protracted  thus, 
To  plunge  my  houfe  in  infamy  and  guilt. 
FRANCIS.        • 

Thy  generous  fon  has  fav'd  rne  from  the  grave  j 
That  noble  friend,  when,  on  the  verge  of  death, 
Set  ope  the  prifon  gates,  and  bade  me  fly 
To  mighty  Charles,  ami  boldly  fue  for  grace. 
Know  'ft  thou  thy  lov'd  Zelinda's  bridal  ring  ?  — 

\Prefenis  it  }o  VEL 

This  precious  pledge  made  thy  Louifa  mine, 
And,  often  feen  upon  Velafco's  hand, 
Procur'd  and  feal'd  a  pardon  from  the  emperor, 
VELASCO. 

That  guardian  angel  of  my  happier  days, 
Sure  hovers  here,  and  guides  my  fangnine  fteps  ; 
Protects  her  cliildren  from  their  father's  rage, 
And  fmooths  my  paflions  down  the  vale  of  life. 
Go,  Francis,  fee  if  yet  Louifa  lives, 
And  heaven  forgive  my  cruelty  to  her  !-r 
Each  paffion  dies  but  love  to  my  Louifa, 
And  fcrong  affection  to  the  beft  of  fons. 


SCENE 


ITS'-  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE, 

SCENE       IV. 

LOUISA,  folay  on  her  knees,  looting  up  to  Heaven  in 
with  her  Father's  S-ivord in  her  band, pointed  to  her  breajl. 

JLjET  this  bright  canopy  fpread  o'er  r»y  head,, 
And  all  the  -wonders  of  the  vaft  concave — 
Each  radiant  flame  that  moots  its  friendly  beam 
O'er  nature's  empire,  and  proclaims  a  god, 
Lend  me  their  aid  to  foiemnize  my  foul  ; 
To  hufh  the  tumult  of  life's  various  cares,- 
That  rage  without,  or  reign  within  rny  breaft. 
*Tis  heav'n  bids  ifie  leave  this  mazy  world, 
To  its  own  guilt,  ambition,  pride  and  blood. 

Hah  !— does  my  purpofe  flag 

[Trembles,  and  drops  thefworJ. 
I  feel  my  courage  firm — yet  fear  my  God — 
Will  he  forgive  a  fuffering  wretclr, 
Weary  of  life — yet  not  afraid  to  die— 
Who  quits  her  poft,  ere  nature  makes  demand- 
Unbidden  rufhes  to  his  awful  throne 

A  ghaftly*— grim — a  difcontented  foul,. 
Bath'd  in  the  blood  of  fuicide  ! 
My  trembling  frame  fhrinks  at  the  dread  idea- 
Yet  what — ah  !  what  can  fad  Louifa  do  ? 

[Recovers  the  fwvrd, 
I  cannot  live — to  fee  Don  Francis  die — 
Yet  worfe  to  live,  and  be  Don  Pedro's  wife — 

I  muft  not  live— my  father  bills  me  die. 

[Stats  berfelf.—DoN  FRANCIS  and 

DE  HARO  enter  at  the  moment. 
FRANCIS. 
Oh  !  my  Louifa— my  love— my  bride  !— 

My 


THE  LADIES  OP  CASTILE.  177 

My  wife—  my  foul's  whole  treafure  —  (lay— 
Thy  dreadful  purpofe  hold  !•  • 

LOUISA. 

Ah  !  my  dear  lord  —  permitted  thus  to  live 
But  to  receive  and  aid  on  its  efcape  — 
My  foul  juft  rufhing  from  my  bleeding  bread*     [Fainting? 

FRANCIS. 

Thou  mufl  not  die  —  Oh  !  lovely  maid,  revive— 
Thy  father's  blefling  beckons  thee  to  life. 

LOUISA. 

It  was  my  father's  will  impell'd  to  death  — 
His  rigorous  command  I  have  obey'd— 
My  filial  defign  may  God  forgive, 
Nor  rank  me  with  the  hateful  filicide, 
Who  nifties  on  his  fate  from  paflTion  ftorms, 
And  dies  the  martyr  of  his  guilty  hand. 

Retard  me  not  —  now  on  the  marge  of  death—  » 
My  confcious  foul,  unftain'd  by  one  bafe  aft, 
Looks  back  ferene  on  life's  tempeftuous  forge* 
Nor  feels  a  pang,  but  for  my  Francis*  fake  j—- 
Yet  blifs  is  crown'd  by  dying  in  his  arms.  [#///• 

FRANCIS. 

I'll  catch  in  ether  that  laft  balmy  breath, 
And  meet  her  gentle.  fpi.rit  in  the  ikies. 

[Falls  on  his  fawni* 


Ha  !  Francis,  hold  —  nor  cowardly  revolt 
From  nature's  poft,  aflign'd  by  nature's  lord. 

Heaven  has  decreed  the  juft,  the  brave,  fiiould  diCj 
But  ;tis  a  daftard  foul  that  fears  to  live. 

FRANCIS. 

Life  loft  all  worth  in  her  expiring  figh  — 
Adieu,  my  friend,  for  time  has  loft  its  charms. 

The 


178  THE  LADIES  OF  CASTILE.   / 

The  free  born  mind  mounts  upwards  with  the  gods. 
And  foars  and  fpurns  a  bafe,  ignoble  world.  [£>< 

DE  HARD. 

Alas  !  the  horrors  of  this  awful  hour— 
What  mifery's  entail'd  on  all  mankind 
But  thofe  who  rife  and  view  life  from  the  ftars  !— 

Oh  1  thou  whofe  word  directs  the  pointed  flamc^ 
When  the  blue  lightnings  curl  about  the  clouds* 
And  thunders  roll  acrofs  the  ragged  vault, 
Let  down  thy  benediction  from  the  flues  I— 
To  virtue  bend  tPie  wayward  mind  of  man- 
Let  not  the  father  blaft  his  children's  peace 
By  rancour— pride — and  curfed  party  rage  j— 
Let  civil  feuds  no  more  diftracl  the  foul — 
Blaii  the  dark  fiends  who  wake  mankind  to  war,, 
And  make  the  world  a  counterpart  to  hell. 

[Exeunt  Omnes* 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


To  Mrs.  MONTAGUE,  Author  of  "  OB- 

SERVATIONS  OH  the  G.ENIUS  dud  WRIT 
INGS  of  SHAKESPEARE," 

V  V  ILL  Montague,  whofe  critic  pen  adds  praifc, 
Ev'n  to  a  Shakefpeare's  bold  exalted  lays  ; 
Who  points  the  faults  in  fweet  Corneille'spage, 
Sees  all  the  errors  of  the  Gallic  ftage — 
Corrects  Voltaire  with  a  fuperior  hand, 
•Or  traces  genius  in  each  diftant  land  ? 
Will  fhe  acrofs  the  Atlantic  firetch  her  eye, 
Look  o'er  the  main,  and  view  the  weftern  Iky  ; 
And  there  Columbia's  infant  drama  fee — 
Reflect  that  Britain  taught  us  to  be  free  ; 
Survey  with  candour  what  fhe  can't  approve  j 
Let  local  fondnefs  yield  to  gen'rous  love  ; 
And,  if  fair  truth  forbids  her  to  commend, 
Then  let  the  critic  foften  to  the  friend. 

The  bard  of  Avon  juftly  bears  the  meed 
Of  fond  applaiife,  from  Tyber  to  the  Tweed  j 

Q  Each 


i8i  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

Each  humbler  mufe  at  diftahce  may  admire, 
But  none  to  Shakelpeare's  fame  ere  dare  aipire. 
And  if  your  ifle,  where  he  fo  long  has  charm'd, 
If  Britain's  fons,  when  by  his  mantle  warm'd, 
Have  foar'd  in  vain  to  reach  his  lofty  quill, 
Nature  to  paint  with  true  Shakcfpearean  {kill— 
A  filter's  hand  may  wreft  a  female  pen, 

From  the  bold  outrage  of  imperious  men. 

.   ^Hf 

If  gentle  Montague  ray  chaplet  raife, 
Critics  may  frown,  or  mild  good  nature  praife  , 
Secure  I'll  walk,  and  placid  move  along, 
And  heed  alike  their  cenfure  or  their  fong  ; 
I'll  take  my  ftand  by  fam'd  ParnafTus'  fide,, 
And  for  a  moment  feel  a  poet's  pride. 

Plymouth i  July  10,  1790, 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  183 

To  TORRI  SMOND. 

A  young  Gentleman  educated  in  Euro/is,    recommended  to  ths 
Author's  acquaintance,  by  a  Friend  of  dijtmclkn* 


My  foul  is  ficken'4  when  I  fee  the  youth, 
That  fyorcs  and  trifles  with  eternal  truth. 


w, 


HEN  ancient  Britain  pip'd  the  ruftic  lays, 
And  tun'd  to  woden  notes  of  vocal  praife, 
The  difmal  dirges  caught  the  lifte ning  throng, 
And  ruder  geftures  join'd  the  antique  fong. 

Then  the  grey  druid's  grave,  majeftic  air, 
The  frantic  prieftefs,  with  difheveli'd  hair 
And  flaming  torch,  fpoke  fuperftition's  reign  j 
While  elfin  damfels  dancing  o'er  the  plain, 
Allur'd  the  vulgar  by  the  myftic  fcene, 
To  keep  long  vigils  on  the  facred  green. 

Then  Gothic  bards  might  drefs  the  magic  tale, 
And  monkifh  legends  over  truth  prevail ; 
As  weak  credulity,  with  hood  wink'd  eyes, 
Had  never  peep'd  behind  the  thin  difguife — 
The  party  colour'd  veil,  at  once  inwove 
With  ignorance,  and  fome  faint  fears  of  Jove  ; 
Wrought  up  to  madnefs  by  the  crafty  prieft, 
While  artful  politicians  faw  the  jeft, 
And  laugh 'd  at  virtue  as  a  ftate  machine, 
And  engine  fit  the  multitude  to  rein  ; 
With  more  facility  to  rule  mankind, 
They  lent  their  efforts  to  obfture  the  mind. 
Folly  and  fraud  the  manly  powers  debas'd, 
And  from  the  foul  th'  etherial  fpark  eras'd* 

Pfting'd 


j*4-  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS, 

Plung'd  in  the  depth  of  black  and  dreary  nighty 
No  eye  could  trace  one  avenue  to  light. 

But  from  the  dark  impenetrable  fliaclc, 
Reafon  appear'd,  a  bright,  a  heav'n  born  maid  j 
The  moral  iyftem,  nature's  early  code, 
Improv'd  by  reafon,  and  the  voice  of  God, 
DJfpell'd  the  mifts  of  error's  tenfold  maze, 
And  truth  triumphant,  held  a  crown  of  bays. 

Celeftial  reafon,  thus  again  reftor'd, 
Her  gentle  wand  through  all  the  world  ador'd, 
She  reign'd  refplendent  o'er  the  human  mind, 
With  brow  worn  fcience,  hand  in  hand  combin'd, 
To  prove  the  powers  of  the  aclive  foul, 
That  mounts  from  earth  to  nature's  farthest  pole  ; 
'Till  Anglia  boafts  the  birth  of  Locke   and  Boyle, 
And  Newton's  name  adorn'd  Britannia's  ifle  ; 
O'er  the  learn 'd  world,  this  heavenly  genius  (hone, 
And  light  diffus'd  as  the  meridian  fun, 
Through  the  vaft  folar  fyftem  late  defin'd, 
By  vaft  exertions  of  his  godlike  mind  j 
And  while  invefugating  nature's  laws> 
He  flill  defended  virtue's  facred  caufe  : 
At  once  lie  taught  philofophy  to  mine, 
Own'd  and  rever'd  the  oracles  divine  ; 
'I  hat  pens  infpir'd  had  op'd  a  brighter  day, 
That  revelation  lent  its  heavenly  ray 
To  lift,  e$alr,  and  elevate  the   foul, 
To  fcale  the  (tars,  and  foar  from  pole  to  pole. 

But  as  the,  cleared  hemifphere  difplays 
The  wandering  ftar,  amidft  j,,he  radiant  blaze, 
Of  orb  o'er  orb,  that  aids  the  nightly  dance, 
Of  planets  rolling  through  the  broad  expanfc  ; 

Sora* 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  185 

Some  vifionary  fouls  have  loft  their  way, 
Eccentric  wandering  'mid  the  noon  tide  ray. 

Thus  man,  frail  man,  to  wide  extremes  fo  prone, 
Truth's  perfect  path  by  him  fo  little  known, 
That  when  emerging  from  the  difmal  gloom, 
Of  night  and  fable,  wrap'd  in  chaos'  womb  ; 
Some  danc'd  and  play'd  around  the  boundlefs  fhore, 
The  depths  of  erudition  juft   fkim'd  o'er  j 
Nurs'd  in  refinements  of  a  fceptic  age, 
They  fpurn  the  precepts  of  the  facred  page  ; 
Hold  revelation  but  the  dream  of  pride, 
The  wifh  of  man  to  be  to  God  ally'd  : 
Thus  the  vain   reptile  of  a  fleeting  hour, 
Prefumes  he  knows  the  plenitude  of  power. 

Through  nature's  fyftem,  through  her  grand  dcfign> 
He  frrips  the  veil  from  Providence  divine  ; 
Sees  clearly  through  the  vaft  myfterious  plan, 
Can  prove  that  Heaven  forgot  its  creature,  man  :      i 

That  when  to  rationals  God  firft  gave  birth, 
And  chain'd  them  down  to  this  low  diftant  earth, 
To  gufde  their  path  lent  not  one  friendly  beam, 
No  intimation  of  his  will  fupreme  ; 
But  the  weak  reafoner's  left  to  grope  his  way, 
To  Jove,  Jehovah,  or  to  Bacchus  pray, 
As  he  py  chance,  or  caprice,  may  be  led, 
Born  in  Italia,  or  in  Athens  bred. 

Loft  in  wild  padion — prattling  much  of  fate^ 
His  higheft  hope  a  non  exifti»g  ftate  ; 
Yet  fears  alarm,  or  fecret  dread  of  fhame  j 
His  brutal  wifhes,  pride,  or  love  of  fame, 

Q    a  Alternate 


i86  MISCELLANEOUS  POE1VTS. 

Alternate  drag  him  with  rnagneclic  force, 

'Till  infidelity's  his  laft  refource  ; 

By  turns  exploding  grace,  free  will,  and  fate, 

Still  apprehenfive  of  fome  future  fiate, 

Sufpenfe  diftradts  his  ofcillating  brain, 

'Till  —  allures  him  death  lhall  end  his  pain. 

Ah  !  Torrifmond  !  poor  trembling,  doubting  you  th 
Pale  with  thy  fears,  and  yet  affronting  truth  ; 
Come,  my  young  friend,  forfake  the  fceptic  road, 
And  tread  the  paths  fuperiour  genius  trod  ; 
Leave  all  the  modern  metaphyfic  fools, 
To  reafon  on  by  falfe  logiflic  rules  j 
Leave  all  the  quibblers  of  a  mimic  age, 
By  rote  to  cavil  at  th'  infpired  page  f 
Let  learned  trafli  their  arguments  fuftain, 
While  common  fenfe,  ejected  from  their  brairr, 
They  through  each  jarring  incoherence  run, 
Until  entangled  in  the  web  they've  fpun, 
They  all  things  doubt  but  their  fuperiour  fenfe, 
And  live  and  die  the  dupes  of  dark  fufpenfe. 

Come,  fpite  of  low  born  pleafures,  nobly  rife,. 
And  feek  true  happinefs  beyond  the  fkies, 
Ere  this  fhort  whirl  of  fancy *d  joys  are  o'er, 
When  time  mail  land  tbee  on  fome  unknown  fliore  ; 
Where  truth  array 'd  in  filvern  robes  fhall  (land, 
With  juftice'  fword  uplifted  in  her  hand. 
jj| 

When  thy  foul  quivers  on  the  awful  marge, 
And  death  throws  ope  eternity's  broad  verge  ; 
When  confcience  whifpers,  Ifhy  probation's  o'er, 
Or  her  foft  voice  may  loud  as  thunder  roar  j 

With 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  ,87 

With  what  amaze  you'll  find  the  chriftian  fcheme 
Is  not  the  product  of  a  brain  fick  dream. 

Then  not  the  wits  who  grace  the  lifts  of  fame, 
Sanftion'd  by  Hume,  or  by  a  Shaftfbury's  name, 
Or  celebrated  Voltaire's  pointed  pen, 
Who  cheats  the  weak,  or  charms  ev'n  wifer  men  5 
Nor  all  the  train  of  infidels  combined, 
footh  a  moment  thy  immortal  mind. 


A  POLITICAL 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS,* 


A  POLITICAL  REVERIE. 

As  fairy  forms,  the  elfin  airy  train, 
And  fylphs,  fometimes  moleft  the  learned  brain> 
Delufive  dreams  the  matron's  boiom  fweU, 
And,  ancient  maids,  the  fancied  vifion,  tell  ; 
So  beaux  and  belles  fee  routs  and  balls  in  dreams* 
«And  drowfy  preachers  chop  polemic  themes  j 
The  ftatefman's  dream,  in  theory  creates, 
New  perfect  forms,  to  govern  broken  flstes. 

Logiftic  fcribblers  dream  of  fleeping  fouls," 
And  dreaming  bucks  drown  reafon  o'er  their  bowls  ; 
The  doubting  deift  dreams  of  Styx  and  fate, 
Yet  laughs  at  fables  of  a  future  Mate, 
'Till  Charon's  boat  mall  land  him  on  a  more 
Of  which  the  dreamer  never  dreamt  before  : 
As  fportive  dreams  infeft  al)  ranks  of  men, 
A  dream,  the  vifionary  world,  may  read  again. 

[This  Reverie  <was  frft  published,  January ,  1 77 4, previous  1 9 
the  breaking  out  of  tie  Civil  V/ar,  <vjhile  America  cuuas  o/l 
cillattng  between  a.  Refinance  by  Arm1*  and  her  ancient  Lov* 
and  Loyalty  to  Britain. ~\ 


iET  Grec'an  bards  and  Roman  poets  tell, 
How  Heftcr  fought,  and  how  old  P^riarn  fell  j 
Paint  armies  ravaging  the  'Jlian  co :•. 
Shew  fields  of  blood  and  mighty  battle's  loft  ; 
Let  mad  CafTandra,  with  difheveU'd  hair, 
With  dreaming  eye,  and  frantic  boforn  bare, 
Tell  dark  prefages,  and  ill  boding  dreams, 
Of  murder,  rapine,  and  the  folemn  themes, 
Of  (laughter'd  cities,  and  their  finking  fpires, 
By  Grecian  rage  wrap'd  in  avening  fires  j 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  tS< 

To  bolder  pens- 1  leave  the  tragic  tale, 
While  fome  kind  mufe  from  Tempe's  gentle  vale, 
With  fofter  fymphony  fhall  touch  the  (tring, 
And  happier  tidings  from  Parnaflus  bring. 

Not  Casfar's  name,  nor  Philip's  bolder  fon, 
Who  figh'd  and  wept,  when  he'd  one  world  undone  j 
Who  drop'd  a  tear,  though  not  from  pity's  fource, 
But  grief,  to  find  fome  bound  to  brutal  force, 
Shall  tune  my  harp,  or  touch  the  warbling  firing  ;_ 
No  bold  defiroyers  of  mankind  I  fing  ; 
Thefe  plunderers  of  men  I'll  greatly  fcorn, 
And  dream  of  nations,  empires  yet  unborn. 

I  look  with  rapture  at  the  diftant  dawn, 
And  view  the  glories,  of  the  opening  morn,. 
When  juftice  holds  his  fceptre  o'er  the  land, 
And  refcues  freedom  from  a  tyrant's  hand  ; 
When  patriot  ftates  in  laurel  crowns  may  rife, 
And  ancient  kingdoms  court  them  as  allies  ; 
Glory  and  valour  fliall  be  here  difplay'd, 
And  virtue  rear  her  long  dejected  head  ; 
Her  ftandard  plant  beneath  thefe  gladden'd  fldes, 
Her  fame  extend,  and  arts  and  fcience  rife  ; 
While  empire's  lofty  fpreading  fails  unfurl'd, 
Roll  fwiftly  on  towards  the  weftern  world. 

Long  fhe's  forfook  her  Afiatic  throne, 
And  leaving  Afric's  barb'rous  burning  zone,. 
On  the  broad' ruins  of  Rome's  haughty  power 
Ere6ted  ramparts  round  fair  Europe's  fhore  ; 
But  in  thofe  blafted  climes  no  more  prefides, 
She,  o'er  the  vaft  Atlantic  furges  rides, 
Vifits  Columbia's  diftant  fertile  plains, 
Where  liberty,  a  happy  goddefs,  reigns. 

Kd 


* 9'o  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

No  defpot  here  fhall  rule  with  awful  fway, 
Nor  orphan's  fpoils  become  the  minion's  prey  ; 
No  more  the  widow'd  bleeding  bofom  mourns,. 
Nor  injur'd  cities- weep  their  flaughter'd  fans  ; 
For  then  each  tyrant,  by  the  hand  of  fate, 
And  (landing  troops,  the  bane  of  every  ftate,, 
Forever  fpurn'd,  fhali  be  remov'd  as  far 
As  bright  Hefperus  from  the  polar  ilar  j 
Freedom  and  virtue  fiiall  united  reign, 
And  flretch  their  empire  o'er  the  wide  domain. 
On  a  broad  bafe  the  commonwealth  fhall  fland, 
When  lawlefs  power  withdraws  its  impious  nand  ; 
When  crowns  and  fceptres  arc  grown  ufelefs  things, 
Nor  petty  pretors  plunder  here  for  kings. 

Then  blefs'd  religion,  in  her  purefl  forms, 
Beyond  the  reach  of  perfecuting  florms, 
In  purefl  azure,  gracefully  array'd, 
In  native  majefly  fhall  ftand  difplay'd, 
'Till  courts  revere  her  ever  facred  fhrine. 
And  nobles  feel  her  influence  divine; 
/Princes  and  peafants  catch  the  glorious  flame, 
And  lifping  infants  praife  Jehovah's  name. 

But  while  methouglit  this  commonwealth  would  rife^ 
And  bright  Milleniari  profpecls  ft  ruck  my  eye?, 
I  wept  Britannia,  once  Europa's  pride, 
To  fame  and  virtue  long  ihe  flood  ally'd  ; 
This  glorious  queen,  the  miilrefs  of  the  ifles, 
Torn  up  by  faftfon,  and  inteftine  broils, 
Became  the  prey  of  each  rapacious  arm, 
Strip'd  and  difrob'd  of  every  native  charm. 

Strong  and  ereft,  like  fome  fair  polifhM  tower, 
She  long  defy'd  each  neighb'ring  hostile  power, 

And 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  191 

And  fent  her  brave  and  valiant  fons  in  queft 
Of  foreign  realms,  who  by  no  fear  reprefs'd, 
The  finking  cliffs  of  Europe's  happy  more, 
They  left  behind,  new  climates  to  explore. 

They  quitted  plenty,  luxury  and  eafe, 
Tempted  the  dangers  of  the  frozen  feas — 
While  hope's  foft  breezes  fann'd  the  fwelling  fails, 
And  fame  and  glory  fpurn'd  the  ruder  gales, 
And  fmooth'd  the  {'urge  that  roll'd  from  more  to  more, 
A  race  of  heroes  fafely  wafted  o'er. 
Who  pitch'd  their  tents  beneath  the  difmal  made, 
Where  wild  woods  roar'd,  and  favages  betray 'd  ; 
-Cities  they  reared  around  barbarian  coafts, 
And  planted  vineyards  o'er  the  barren  waftes. 
In  Britain's  lap  the  rich  produce  was  pour'd, 
(Which  heaven,  benignant,  plentifully  fliower'd,^ 
'Till  me,  ungrateful,  join'd  an  impious  band, 
And  forging  mackles  with  a  guilty  hand, 
Broke  the  firm  union  whence  her  vigour  grew, 
DhTolv'd  the  bands,  and  cut  the  finews  through* 

Here, a  bright  form,  with  foft  majeftic  grace, 
Beckon'd  me  on  through  vaft  unmeafur'd  fpace,; 
Befide  the  margin  of  the  vaft  profound, 
Wild  echos  play'd  and  cataracls  rebound  ; 
Beyond  the  heights  of  nature's  wide  expanfe, 
Where  mov'd  fuperb  the  planetary  dance, 
Light  burfl  on  light,  and  funs  o'er  funs  difplay'd 
The  fyftem  perfecT:,  nature's  God  had  laid. 

This  fcale  of  altitude  prefented  whole, 
The  various  movements  of  the  human  foul  ; 
Starting,  I  cry'd — "  Oh  !  facred  form  forgive, 
Or  me  from  yonder  nether  world  remove  ; — 

Has 


192  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS, 

Has  freedom's  genius  left  Britannia's  fhore  ? 
And  mufi.  her  fleeping  patriots  live  no  more-? 
Arife,  ye  venerable  fhades  !  infplre, 
Each  languid  foul  with  patriotic  fire  ; 
'Till  every  bofom  feels  a  noble  flame, 
And  emulates  a  Locke,  or  Sydney's  name." 

The  fer'aph  frml'd  ineffably  ferene, 
And  mew 'd  me  truth,  infcrib'd  on  her  bright  mien  : 
She.faid — "  The  glow  from  breafl  to  bread  is  fpread, 
From  fire  to  fon  the  latent  fpark's  convey 'd  ; 
Let  thofe  blefs'd  fhades  reft  in  their  facred  urns", 
Lie  undifturb'd — the  glorious  ardour  burns, 
Though  far  transferr'd  from  their  lov'd  native  foil-. 
Virtue  turn'd  pale,  and  freedom  left  the  ifle, 
When  fhe  uVetch'd  out  her  avaricious  hand, 
And  fliew'd  her  fons  her  hoftile  bloody  wand  ; 
United  millions  parried  back  the  blow, 
Britain  recoil'd,  and  fadly  learnt  to  know, 
Cities  with  cities  leagu'd,  and  town  with  town, 
-She  trembled  at  her  fate  when  half  undone." 

Think  not  this  ail  a  vifionary  fcene, 
For  lie  who  wields  the  grand,  the  vaft  machine  ; 
Who  bids  the  mom  from  ea(K  rn  ocean  rife, 
And  paler  Cynthia  cheer  the  midnight  fkies  ; 
Who  holds  the  balance — who  itretch'd  out  the  line— « 
O'er  all  creation  forni'd  the  grand  defign, 
Ten  thoufand  worlds  to  fcatter  o'er  the  plain, 
And  fpread  new  glories  through  his  wide  domain  ; 
Who  rules  the  ftars,  and  taught  the  rolling  fpheres 
To  meafure  round  the  quick  revolving  years  ; 
At  awful  diftance  from  his  radiant  throne, 
Sufpended,  this  terreftial  ball  hangs  down  .j     j^% 

Yet 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  i9J 

Yet  (till  prefides  and  watches  o'er  the  fates, 
Of  all  the  kingdoms  that  his  power  creates, 

Ere  he  winds  up  the  clofing  act  of  time, 
And  draws  the  veil  from  fyftems  more  fublime, 
In  fwift  progreflion,  westward  throws  the  bowl, 
'Till  mighty  empire  crowns  the  fpacious  whole. 

Then  this  far  diflant  corner  of  the  earth, 
Shall  boaft  her  Decii's  and  her  Fabii's  birth  ; 
When  the  young  heroes,  wondering,  (hall  be  told, 
That  Britain  barter'd  worth  for  lurt  of  gold  ; 
How,  loft  in  luxury,  her  filken  fons, 
Forgot  her  Edwards  claim'd  the  Bourbon  crowns  \> 
That  tyrants  trembled  on  their  tott'ring  throne, 
And  haughty  monarchs  fear'd  Britannia's  frown. 

But  ah  !  how  tarnifh'd  her  illuftrious  name, 
Defpoil'd  of  wealth,  of  grandeur,  and  of  fame  ! 
Buried  beneath  her  complicated  crimes, 
A  fad  memento  to  fucceeding  times  : 
Difmay'd,  (he  yet  may  lift  her  fuppliant  hand, 
And  afk  protection  from  this  injur'd  land  ; 
Whole  peaceful  fons  will  draw  oblivion  o'er 
Unnumber'd  wrongs,  and  rafe  the  blacken'd  fcore  :* 
Yet  heave  a  figh,  and  drop  the  tender  tear, 
And  weep  Britannia's  punishment  fevere  ; 
When  they  refearching  o'er  fome  future  chart, 
Scarce  find  the  feat  of  mighty  Brunfwick's  court  ; 
For  neighbouring  ftates  may  feize  the  venal  ifle, 
And  Gallic  princes  distribute  the  fpoil. 
The  lion,  proftrate  on  the  naked  ftrand, 
May  fee  the  lilies  waving  o'er  the  land  ; 
May  fee  Columbia's  embrio  pendants  play, 
And  infant  navies  cut  the  watry  way  j 

R  Fame's 


fc?4  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

Fame's  outftretch'd  wing  may  on  the  eaflern  gales 
Leave  rjie  proud  Thames,  and  fpread  her  whiten'd  flu's. 

While  rifing  empire  rears  her  purple  creft, 
Triumphant  commerce  hails  the  gladden'd  weft, 
And  fleers  her  courfe  to  Zembla's  frozen  pole, 
Or  lands  in  India,  free  from  the  control 
Of  bafe,  monopolizing  men,  combin'd 
To  plunder  millions,  and  enflave  mankind. 
From  Florida  to  Nova  Scotian  fiiores 
She  pours'  her  treafures  and  unlades  her  (tores  j 
Round  all  the  globe  (he  fails  from  fea  to  fea,. 
And  fmiles  and  profpers,  only  when  fhe's  free. 

But  here  the  fvveet  enchanting  vifion  'fled, 
And  darken'd  clouds  flafh'd  lightnings  o'er  my  head  ; 
The  fcraph  foleinn  ftretch'd  abroad  her  hand, 
The  fiars  grew  pale  beneath  her  burnifh'd  wand  j 
On  her  pale  front  difgtift  and  forrow  hung, 
.  And  awful  accents  trembled  on  her  tongue. 

Behold  !  fhe  (aid,  before  thefe  great  events, 
Abforb'd  in  tears,  America  laments  j 
.  Laments  the  ravage  of  her  fruitful  plains. 
While  crimfon  dreams  the  peaceful  villa  (tains. 

The  weeping  matron  fighs  in  poignant  pain 
i  O'er  her  laft  hope,'  in  the  rude  battle  flain  : 

The  bleeding  bofom  of  the  aged  fire, 
Pierc'd  by  his  fon,  will  in  his  arms  expire  ; 
.  For  death  promifcuous  flies  from  ev'ry  hand, 

When  faction's  fword  is  brandim'd  oVr  the  land  j 

When  civil  difcord  c,uts  the  friendly  tics, 

And  focial  joy  from  everybofom  flies  ; 
,:But  let  the  mufe  forbear  the  folemn  tale, 
,  Aadlend  once  mow:,,  the  "  Grecian  painter' $  iW/."* 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


To  Mr. 


Alluding  to  a  Converfatlon  'which  favoured  tie   Opinion  of 
Fatalifm  \  that  human  A  ft  ion,  ^whether  good  or  eiMjfyrings 
from   the  Principle  offelf  Lovey  void  of  any   real  Benevo 
lence,  luhen  traced  up  to  its  Source, 


X  HOUGH  fhort,farmort,  my  pen  of  the  fublime^ 
Fate  urges  on,  and  bids  me  write  in  rhyme  j 
I  hope  my  friend  the  effort  will  excufe, 
Nor  blame  the  heart,  but  elude  the  niggard  mufe, 

Is  it  a  wild  enthufiaftic  flame, 
That  fwells  the  bofom  panting  after  fame  ; 
Dilates  the  mind,  while  every  fail's  unfurl  'd,' 
To  catch  the  plaudits  of  a  gazing  world  ? 
Is  there  no  permanent,  no  fteady  pole, 
To  point  us  on,  and  guide  the  wandering  foul  ? 
Does  prejudice  and  paflion  rule  mankind  ? 
Are  there  no  fprings  that  aftuate  the  mind, 
Whofe  deep  meanders  have  a.  nobler  fource, 
Than  vain  felf  love,  to  guide  their  winding  courfe  ? 

The  gen'rous  ardour,  ftil'd  benevolence, 
Is  it  all  art,  to  gratify  the  fenfe  ? 
Or  give  imagination  further  fcope  ? 
That  airy  queen,  who  guides  the  helm  of  hope/, 
Holds  a  falfe  mirror  to  the  dazzled  fight  ; 
A  dim  perfpec~live,  a  delufive  light, 
That  fwells  the  bubbles  of  life's  fhorlen'd  fpan,  - 
While  wifdom  laughs  at  the  deluded  man, 
Wrap'd  in  ecftatics,  by  imagin'd  fame, 

When  the<next  -moment  may  blot  out  his  nanve. 

Can't 


29«  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS, 

Can't  the  wife  precepts  of  a  Plato's  fchool, 
Or  a  divine — a  ftill  more  perfect  rule, 
Aroule,  exalt,  and  animate  the  foul 
Self  to  renounce,  and  rife  above  control 
Of  narrow  paflions,  that  the  man  debafe. 
And  from  his  breaft  his  maker's  image  rafe  j 
Or  are  the  fetters  that  enflave  the  mind 
Of  fuch  a  ftrong  and  adamantine  kind, 
So  firmly  lock'd,  and  fo  fecurely  riv'd, 
The  more  we  ffrive,  the  more  we're  ftill  deceiv'd  j 
Are  truth  and  friendfhip  no  where  to  be  found» 
And  patriot  virtue  nothing  but  a  found  ? 
Then  may  a  Caefar  equal  honours  claim, 
With  gen'rous  Brutus'  celebrated  name  : 
For  the  poor  tribute  of  a  fhort  applaufe, 
One  flabb'd  a  tyrant,  trampling  on  the  laws  ; 
While  the  proud  defpot  mark'd  his  baneful  way,. 
With  virtue's  tears,  and  triumph'd  o'er  his  prey. 

Caefar  eriflav'd,  and  Brutus  would  have  freed, 
Self,  the  iole  point  in  which  they're  both  agreed. 

Self  love,  that  ftimulus  to  nobler  aims, 
Bade  Nero  light  the  capital  in  flames  ; 
Bade  Borgia  aft  a  moft  infernal  part, 
Or  Scipio  to  triumph  o'er  his  heart  ; 

Bids betray  his  native  land, 

And  his  bafe  brother  lend  his  perjur'd  hand, 
While  freedom  weeps,  and  heav'n  forbears  to  flie«l 
Its  awful  vengeance  on  the  guilty  head. 

If  fuch  is  life,  and  fancy  throws  the  bowl,  , 
And  appetite  and  caprice  rule  the  whole  j 
If  virtuous  friendship  has  no  folid  bafe, 
But  falfe  deception  holds  the  facred  place  j 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

Then  from  thy  mew'ry  rafe  out  every  line, 
Nor  recollect  a  fentiment  of  mine, 
But  dark  oblivion's  fable  veil  draw  o'er, 
And  I'll  forbear  to  interrupt  thee  more. 

For  if  vice  boafts  her  origin  the  fame 
With  focial  joy  and  patriotic  flame, 
Th«n  I  muft  wifh  to  bid  the  world  fareweJ, 
Turn*  Anchoret,  and  choofe  fome  lonely  cell, 
Beneath  Come  peaceful  hermitage  reclin'd, 
To  weep  the  miiery  of  all  mankind? 
"Till  days  and  years,  till  time  fhall  ceafe  to  roll. 
And  truth  eternal  ftdke  the  wondering  foul, 


R  a  .On 


J$$  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS* 

On  a  SURVEY  of  the  HEAVENS*. 

JUoES  there  an  infidel  exift  ? 
Let  him  look  up — he  can't  refift, 
The&  proofs  of  Deity — fo  clear, 
He  muft  the  architect  revere, 
Whene'er  to  heaven  he  lifts  his  eyes, 
And  there  furveys  the  fpangleA  fkies  ; 
The  glitt'ring  ftars,  the  worlds  that  fhin*> 
And  fpeak  their  origin  divine, 
•-Bjd  him  adore,  and  proftrate  fall, 
And  own  one  Lord,  lupreiuc  o'f.r  -?U. 

One  God  this  mighty  fabrick  guides,. 
Th'  etherial  circles  he  divides  ; 
And  meafures  out  the  diftant  bound, 
Of  each  revolving  planet's  round  ; 
Prevents  the  univerfal  jar,     - 
That  might  from  one  eccentric  ftar, 
Tofs'd  in  the  wide  extended  fpace, 
At  once — a  thoufand  worlds  displace. 

What  elfe  fupports  the  rolling  fpheres  j. 
Nought  but  Almighty  power  appears, 
The  vaft  unnumber'd  orbs  to  place, 
And  fcatter  o'er  the  boundlefs  fpace, 
Myriads  of  worlds  of  purer  light, 
Our  adoration  to  excife, 
And  lead  the  wandering  mind  of  man,, 
To  contemplate  the  glorious  plan. 

Not  even  Newton's  godlike  mind, 
Nor  all  the  fages  of  mankind, 

Could 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

Could  e'er  affign  another  caufe, 
Though  much  they  talk  of  nature's  laws  ; 
Of  gravity's  attractive  force, 
They  own  the  grand,  eternal  fource, 
Who,  from  the  depths  of  chaos*  womb^ 
Prepared  the  vaulted,  fpacious  dome  j 
He  fpake — a  vaft  foundation's  laid, 
And  countlefs  globes  thereon  difplay'd, 

His  aclrive  power  ftill  fuftains 
Their  weight,  amidft  the  heavenly  plains  5. 
Infinite  goodnefs  yet  protects, 
All  perfeft  wifdora  ftill  diretts 
Their  revolutions  ; — knows  the  hour, 
When  rapid  time's  refiftlefs  pow'r, 
In  mighty  ruin  will  involve, 
And  God — this -grand  machine  diflblve, 

Then  time  and  death  (hall  both  expire^ 
And  in  the  univerfal  fire, 
Thefe  elements  (hall  melt  away, 
To  ufher  in  eternal  day. 

Amazing  thought  ! — Is  it  decreed, 
'New  earth  and  heavens,  fhali  tliefe  fucceed 
More  glorious  far — dill  more  auguft  \ 
In  his  omnific  arm  we  truft, 

But  liow  this  fyftem  'twill  excel, 
Nor  Angel's  voice,  or  tongue  caa  tell  ; 
Nor  human  thought  fo  high  can  foar  ; 
His  works  furvey,  and  God  adore. 


Oft 


too. 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


On  the  DEA.TH  of  Mrs.  S. 
within  a  few  Days  after  her  MARRIAGE. 

JL'HE  grave  with  open  month,  defiroys^ 
Life's  choiceft.bleflfmgs,  pureft  joys. 

The  gay  Orinda's  pleaflng  charms, 
Allur'd  young  Selim  to  her  arms  ; 
They  tafted  blifs  one  happy  moon, 
Nor  thought  their  joys  could  end  fo  foon, 
Or  dreamt  that  fuch  a  gueft  as  Deatli 
Would  interrupt  the  bridal  mirth  ; 
But  lo  \  his  fable  wings  are  fpread, 
Orinda's  number'd  with  the  dead. 

Thus  have  I  feen  the  opening  flower 
That  decorates  the  nuptial  bow'r, 
Its  odours  fhed,  its  bright  array 
Rival  the  luftre  of  the  day  ; 
But  ere  the  glorious  morning  fun 
Had  reach'd  the  central  point  of  noon, 
The  violets  fade,  the  rofes  die, . 
So  funk  the  luflre  of -her  eye. 
The  valiant  Selim  quits  the  prize, 
Reluftant  yields  the  facrifice  ; 
Trys  in  the  laurell'd  field  of  fame, 
To  lofe  the  lov'd  Orinda's  name  ; 
But,  not  the  warlike,  hoflile  fcene, 
That  purples  o'er  the  native -green, 
Nor  the  hoarfe  trumpet,  loud  and  fhrill, 
The  plaintive  voice  of  grief  could  quell. 
Selim  ftill  feels  the  keener  fmart 
That  rankles  in  his  bleeding  heart ; 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS,  so* 

He  rufhes  on  amid  the  plain, 
And  courts  the  fword  to  end  his  pain  : 
He  fell — but  fmil'd  in  Death's  embrace, 
And  cry'd,  here  ends  the  idle  chace  , 
Wealth,  pleafure,  honour,  airy  fame, 
I've  prov'd  are  but  an  empty  name  : 
He  kifs'd  the  reeking  fleel,  and  faid,. 
1  fly  to  feek  Orindu's  fhade. 


so*  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

The  SQUABBLE  of  the  SEA  NYMPHS; 
or  the  SACRIFICE  of  the  TUSCARAROES. 

%%e  important  political  event  of  1774,  'when  federal  cargoes 
of  teas  were  poured  into  the  fea,  has  been  replete  with 
mighty  confequences,  and  wi/l  newer  be  forgotten  in  the  hif- 
tory  of  American  independence.  But  the  author's  ofwn 
opinion  of  the  equity  or  policy  of  this  meafure  is  not  to  be  col- 
letted  from  a  political  fal!yy  written  at  the  requeft  of  a  par 
ticular friend^  now  in  one  of  the  higheft  grades  of  American 
rank. 


'RIGHT  Phoebus  drove  his  rapid  car  amain>. 
And  plung'd  his  fieeds  beyond  the  weftern  plain, 
Behind  a  golden  fkirted  cloud  to  reft. 
Ere  ebon  night  had  fpread  her  fable  veft, 
And  drawn  her  curtain  o'er  the  fragrant  vale,  . 
Or  Cynthia's  fhadows  drefs'dthe  lonely  dale, 
The  heroes  of  the  Tufcararo  tribe,* 
Who  fcorn'd  alike  a  fetter  or  a  bribe, 
In  order  rang'd,  and  waited  freedom's  nod, , 
To  make  an  offering  to  the  wat'ry  god. 

Grey  Neptune  rofe,  and  from  his  fea  green  bed, 
He  wav'd  his  trident  o'er  his  oozy  head  ; 
He  ftretch'd,  from  fhore  to  fliore,  his  regal  wandr 
And  bade  tfee  river  deities  attend  : 
Triton's  hoarfe  clarion  fummon'd  them  by  name, 
And  frcrn  old  ocean  call'd  each  wat'iy  dame. 

In  council  met  to  regulate  the  ftate, 
Among  their  godfhips  rofe  a  warm  debate, 

What« 

*  The  cargoes  were  deftroyed  by  a  number  of  people,  difguiffcd 
ifl  the  habit  of  the  Aborigines. 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEiMS.  *o3 

"What  Jufcious  draught  they  next  mould  fubftitute, 
That  might  the  palates  of  celeftials  fuit, 
As  Nectar's- ftreani  no  more  meandering  rolls, 
The  food  ambrofial  of  their  focial  bowls 
Profufely  fpent  ; — nor,  can  Scamander's  fhore, 
Yield  the  fair  fea  nymphs  one  ftiort  banquet  more* 

The  Tilans  all  with  one  accord  arous'd, 
To  travel  round  Columbia's  coaft  propos'd  ; 
To  rob  and  plunder  every  neighb'ring  vine, 
(Regardlefs  of  Nemifis'  facred  mrine  ;) 
Nor  leave  untouch'd  the  peafant's  little  flore, 
Or  think  of  right,  while  demi  gods  have  power. 

But  ere  on  a  decided  mode  agreed, 
They,  nor  great  Neptune,  farther  dare  proceed, 
'Till  every  goddefs  of  the  ftreams  and  lakes, 
And  lefier  deities  of  fens  and  brakes — 
With  all  the  nymphs  that  fwim  around  the  iflc», 
Deign 'd  to  give  fanction  by  approving  fmiles  : 
For  females  have  their  influence  o'er  kings, 
Nor  wives,  nor  miftrefles,  were  ufelefs  things, 
Ev'n  to  the  gods  of  ancient  Homer's  page  ; 
Then  lure,  in  this  polite. and  poliuYd  age, 
None  will  neglect  the  fex's  fage  advice, 
When  they  engage  in  any  point  fo  nice, 
As  to  forbid  the  choice  neclareus  fip, 
And  offer  bohea  to  the  rofy  lip. 

Proud  Amphytrite  reje6ted  in  Gifdaio9 
Refus'd  the  gift,  and  left  the  wart'ry  main, 
With  fervile  Proteus  lagging  by  her  fide, 
To  take  advantage  of  the  fiiifting  tide  ; 
To  catch  a  fmile,  or  pick  up  golden  fands, 
.Either  from  PlutBS,  or  the  naked  ftrands  ; 

\Loog 


204  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

Long  pracVis'd — eafy  he  amimes  the  fliape 
Of  fox,  or  panther,  crocodile,  or  ape  ; 
When  'tis  his  int'reft,  his  ftep  dame  he'll  aid, 
One  pebble  more,  and  Amphytrite's  betray M. 

A  flaming  torch  fhe  took  in  either  hand, 
(And  as  fell  difcord  reign'd  throughout  the  land, 
Was  well  appriz'd  the  centaurs  would  confpire  ;) 
Refolv'd  to  fet  the  weftern  world  on  fire, 
By  fcattering  the  weed  of  Indian  fhores  ; 
Or  worfe,  to, lodge  it  in  Pygmalion's  (lores  : 
But  if  the  artifice  fiiould  not  fucceed, 
Then,  in  revenge,  attempt  fome  bolder  deed  ; 
For  while  old  ocean's  mighty  billows  roar, 
Or  foaming  furges  lafh  the  diflant  fhore, 
Shall  goddeffes  regale  like  woodkmd  dames  ? 
*Firft  let  Chinefan  herbage  feed  the  flames. 

But  all  the  Nereids  whifper'd  murmurs  round, 
And  craggy  cliffs  reecho'd  back  the  found  j 
'Till  fair  Salacia  perch'd  upon  the  rocks, 
The  rival  gpddefs  wav'd  her  yellow  locks, 
Proclaimed,  hyfonia  (hall  affuage  their  grief, 
With  choice  fouchong,  and  the  imperial  leaf. 

The  champions  of  the  Tufcararan  race, 
(Who  neither  hold,  nor  even  wifh  a  place, 
While  faction  reigns,  and  tyranny  prefides, 
And  bafe  oppfreftion  o^r  the  virtues  rides  ; 
While  venal  meafures  dance  in  filken  fails, 
And  avarice  o'er  earth  and  fea  prevails  ; 
While  luxury  creates  fuch  mighty  feuds, 
E'en  in  the  bofoms  of  the  demi  gods ;) 
Lent  tneir  ftrong  arm  in  pity  to  the  fair, 
To  aid  the  bright  Salacia's  generous  care  , 


Pour'd 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  *•* 

Pour'd  a  profufion  of  delicious  teas, 
Which,  wafted  by  a  foft  favonian  breeze, 
Supply'd  the  wat'ry  deities,  in  fpite 
Of  all  the  rage  of  jealous  Amphytrite. 

The  fair  Salacia,  victory,  victory,  fings, 
In  fpite  of  heroes,  demi  gods,  or  kings  ; 
She  bids  defiance  to  the  fervile  train, 
The  pimps  and  fycophants  of  George's  reign. 

\ 

The  virtuous  daughters  of  the  neighb'ring  mead, 
In  graceful  fmiles  approved  the  glorious  deed  ; 
(And  though  the  Syrens  left  their  coral  beds, 
Juft  o'er  the  furface  lifted  up  their  heads, 
And  fung  foft  peans  to  the  brave  and  fair, 
*Till  almoft  caught  in  the  delufive  fnare 
To  fink  fecurely  in  a  golden  dream, 
And  tafte  the  fweet  inebriating  dream, 
Which,  though  a  repaft  for  the  wat'ry  maids, 
Is  baneful  poifon  to  the  mountain  naiades  ;) 
They  favv  delighted  from  the  inland  rocks, 
O'er  the  broad  deep  pour'd  out  Pandora's  box  ; 
They  join'd,  and  fair  Salacia's  triumph  fung, 
Wild  echo,  o'er  the  bounding  ocean  rung  ; 
The  fea  nymphs  heard,  and  all  the  fpo^tive  train, 
In  fhaggy  treflfes  danc'd  around  the  main, 
From  fouthern  lakes,  down  to  the  northern  rills. 
And  fpread  confufion  round  N hills. 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS, 
To  a  YOUNG  LADY, 

/hewing  an  excellent  Piece  of  PA  IN  TING,  much  faded* 

V-/OME,  and  attend,  my  charming  maid  ; 
See  how  the  gayeft  colours  fade  ; 
As  beauteous  paintings  lofe  their  dye, 
Age  finks  the  luftre  of  your  eye. 

Then  feize  the  minutes  as  they  pafs  ; 
Behold  !  how  fwift  runs  down  the  glafs  ; 
The  hafty  fands  that  meafure  time, 
Point  you  to  pleafures  more  fublime  ; 
And  bid  you  flum  the  flow'ry  path, 
That  cheats  the  millions  into  death. 

Snatch  every  moment  time  fhall  give, 
And  uniformly  virtuous  live  ; 
Let  no  vain  cares  retard  thy  foul, 
But  drive  to  reach  the  happy  goal  ; 
When  pale,  when  unrelenting  Death, 
Shall  fay,  refign  life's  vital  breath  ! 
May  you,  fwift  as  the  morning  lark 
That  ftems  her  courfe  to  heav'n's  high  arch, 
Leave  every  earthly  care,  and  foar, 
Where  numerous  feraphims  adore  ; 
Thy  pinions  fpread  and  wafted  high, 
Beyond  the  blue  etherial  flcy, 
May  you  there  chant  the  glorious  lays, 
The  carols  of  eternal  praife, 
To  that  exhau^lefs  fource  of  light, 
Who  rules  the  fhadows  of  the  night, 
Who  lends  each  orb  its  fplendid  ray, 
And  points  the  glorious  beams  of  day. 

Tiine 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

Time  and  eternity  he  holds  j 
Nor  all  eternity  unfolds, 
The  glories  of  Jehovah's  name  ; 
Nor  higheft  angels  can  proclaim, 
The  wonders  of  his  boundlefs  grace, 
They  bowr  and  veil  before  his  face* 

What  then  fhall  mortals  of  an  hour, 
But  bend  fubmiffive  to  his  power  j 
And  learn  at  wifdom's  happy  Iore7 
Nature's  great  author  to  adore. 


ao8  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS* 

To  the  Hon.  J.  WINTHROP,  Efq. 

Who,  on  the  American  Determination,  in  1774,  /»  fufpend  all 
Commerce  'with  Britain,  (except  for  the  real  Nece/aries  of 
life)  requfjled  a  poetical  Lift  of  the  Articles  the  Ladies 
might  comprife  under  that  Head. 

JL  REEDOM  may  weep,  and  tyranny  prevail, 
And  fhibborn  patriots  either  frown,  or  rail  j 
Let  them  of  grave  economy  talk  loud, 
Prate  prudent  meafures  to  the  lifl'ning  crowd  j 
With  all  the  rhetoric  of  ancient  fchools, 
Defpife  the  mode,  and  fafhion's  modifh  fools  ; 
Or  mew  fair  liberty,  who  us'd  to  fmile, 
The  guardian  goddefs  of  Britannia's  ifle, 
In  fable  weeds,  anticipate  the  blow, 
Aim'd  at  Columbia  by  her  royal  foe  ; 
And  mark  the  period  when  inglorious  kings 
Deal  round  the  curfes  that  a  Churchill  (ings* 

But  what's  the  anguifh  of  whole  towns  in  tears, 
Or  trembling  cities  groaning  out  their  fears  ? 
The  ftate  may  totter  on  proud  ruin's  brink, 
The  fword  be  brandifh'd,  or  the  bark  may  fink  ; 
Yet  mail  Clariffa  check  her  wanton  pride, 
And  lay  her  female  ornaments  afide  ? 
Quit  all  the  mining  pomp,  the  gay  parade, 
The  coftly  trappings  that  adorn  the  maid  ? 
What  !  all  the  aid  of  foreign  looms  refufe  I 
(As  beds  of  tulips  ftrip'd  of  richeft  hues, 
Or  the  fweet  bloom  that's  nip'd  by  fudden  froft, 
ClarifTa  reigns  no  more  a  favorite  toad. 
For  what  is  virtue,  or  the  winning  grace, 

Of  foft  good  humour,  playing  round  the  face  j 

O* 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS,  2 

Or  what  thofe  modeft  antiquated  charms, 
That  lur'd  a  Brutus  to  a  Portia's  arms  ; 
Or  all  the  hidden  beauties  of  the  mind, 
Compar'd  with  gauze,  and  taifels  well  combin'd  t 

This  mighty  theme  produc'd  a  long  debate, 
On  the  beft  plan  to  fave  a  finking  ftate  ; 
The  oratorial  fair,  as  they  inclin'd, 
Freely  difcufs'd,  and  frankly  fpake  their  mind. 

Lamira  wifh'd  that  freedom  might  fucceed, 
But  to  fuch'terms  what  female  ere  agreed  > 
To  Britifh  marts  forbidden  to  repair, 
(Where  ev'ry  lux'ry  tempts  the  blooming  fair,) 
Equals  the  rigour  of  thofe  ancient  times 

When  Pharaoh,  harden 'd  as  a  G in  crimes, 

Plagu'd  Ifrael's  racer  and  tax'd  them  by  a  law, 
Demanding  brick,  when  destitute  of  draw  ; 
Miraculoufly  led  from  Egypt's  port, 
They  lov'd  the*famions  of  the  tyrant's  court  j 
Sigh'd  for  the  leeks,  and  waters  of -the  Nile, 
As  we  for  gewgaws  from  Britannia's  ifle  ; 
That  haughty  ifle,  Whofe  mercenary  hand, 
Spreads  wide  confufron  round  this  fertile  land, 
Deftr®ys>the  concord,  and  breaks  down  the  fhrine, 
By- virtue  rear'd,  ta  harmony  divine* 

Prudentia  fig-h'd — fliall  all  our. country  mourn, 
A  powerful  defpot's  low 'ring,  haughty  frown, 
Whofc  hoftile  mandates,  fent  from  venal  courts, 
Rob  the  fair  vintage,  and  blockade  our  ports  ; 
While  troops,  of  guards  are  planted  on  each  plain, 
Whofe  crimes  contagious,  youth  and  beauty  (lain  ? 
Fierce  rancour  blazen'd  on  each  bread's  difplay'd, 
And  for  a  creft,  a  gorgon's  fnaky  head, 

S  a  The 


2io  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

The  good,  the  wife,  the  prudent,  and  the  gay. 
Mingle  their  tears,  and  fighs  for  fighs  repay  ; 
Deep  anxious  thought  each  gen'rous  bofora  fU!sf 
How  to  avert  the  dread  approaching  ills  ; 
Let  us  refolve  on  a  fmall  iacrifice, 
And  in  the  pride  of  Roman  matrons  rife  ; 
Good  as  Cornelia,  or  a  Pompey's  wife, 
We'll  quit  the  ufelefs  vanities  of  life. 
Aniidft  loud  diicord,  fadnefs,  and  difmay, 
Hope  fpread  her  wing,  and  flit  acrofs  the  away  ; 
Thanks  to  the  (ex,  by  heavenly  hand  defign'd, 
Either  to  blefs,  or  ruin  all  mankind. 

A  (harp  debate  enfu'd  on  wrong  and  right, 
A  little  warm,  'tis  true,  yet  all  unite, 
At  once  to  end  the  great  politic  ftrife, 
And  yield  up  all  but  real  wants  of  life. 

But  does  Helvidius,  vigilant  and  wife, 
Call  for  a  fchedule,  that  may  all  comprife  ?    ' 
""Fis  fo  contracted*  that  a  Spartan  fage, 
Will  fure  applaud  th'  economizing  age. 

But  if  ye  doubt,  an  inventory  clear,. 
Of  ail  flie  needs,  Laraira  offers  here  ; 
Nor  does  (he  fear  a  rigid  Cato's  frown, 
When  (lie  lays  by  the  rich  embroider'd  gown, 
And  modeftly  compounds  for  juft  enough — 
Perhaps,  fome  dozens  of  more  flighty  fluff; 
With  lawns  and  luftrings — blond,  and  mecklin  laces 
Fringes  and  jexvels,  fans  and  tweezer  cafes  ; 
Gay  cloaks  and  hats,  of  every  fhape  and  fize, 
Scarfs,  cardinals,  and  ribbons  of  all  dyes  ; 
With  ruffles  ftamp'd,  and  aprons  of  tambour, 
Tippets  aad  handkerchiefs,  at  lead,  three  fcore  -, 


With 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

With  fineft  muflins  that  fair  India  boafts, 
And  the  choice  herbage  from  Chinefan  coafts  ; 
(But  while  the  fragrant  hyfon  leaf  regales, 
Who'll  wear  the  homefpun  produce  of  the  vales  ? 
For  if  'twould  fave  the  nation  from  the  curfe 
Of  (landing  troops  ;  or,  name  a  plague  ftill  worfej. 
Few  can  this  choice  delicious  draught  give  up, 
Though  all  Medea's  poifons  fill  the  cup.) 
Add  feathers,  furs,  rich  fattins,  and  ducapes,. 
And  head  drefles  in  pyramidlal  fhapes  ; 
Side  boards  of  plate,  and  porcelain  profufe, 
With  fifty  ditto's  that  the  ladies  ufe  j 
If  my  poor  treach'rous  memory  has  mifs'd, 
Ingenious  T •  •  < •  1  (hall  complete  the  lift. 
So  week  Lamira,  and  her  warrts  fo  few, 
Who  can  refufe  ? — they're  but  the  fex's  due. 

In  youth,  indeed,  an  antiquated  page, 
Taught  us  the  threatenings  of  an  Hebrew  fage 
'Gainft  wimples,  mantles,  curls,  and  crifping  pins, 
But  rank  not  thefe  among  our  modern  fins  : 
For  when  our  manners  are  well  underftood, 
What  in  the  fcale  is  ftomacher  or  hood  ? 

*Tis  true,  we  love  the  courtly  mein  and  air> 
The  pride  of  drefs,  and  all  the  debonair  ; 
Yet  Clara  quits  the  more  drefs'd  negligee, 
And  fubftitutes  the  carelefs  polanee  ; 
Until  fome  fair  one  from  Britannia's  court, 
Some  jaunty  drefs,  or  newer  ta/te  import  ; 
This  fweet  temptation  could  not  be  withftood, 
Though  for  the  purchafe's  paid  her  father's  blood 
Though  lofs  of  freedom  were  the  coftly  price, 
Or  flaming  comets  fweep  the  angry  fides  ; 


s^>  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

Or  earthquakes  rattle,  or  volcanoes  roar  ; 
Indulge  this  trifle,  and  flic  afks  no  more  ; 
Can  the  ftern  patriot  Clara's  fuit  deny  ? 
'Tis  beauty  a(ks,  and  reafon  muft  comply. 

But  while  the  fex  round  folly's  vortex  play. 
Say,  if  their  lords  are  wifer  far  than  they  ; 
Few  manly Jaofoms  feel  a  nobler  flame, 
Some  cog  the  dye,  and  others  win  the  game  ; 
Trace  their  meanders  to  their  tainted  fource, 
What's  the  grand  pole  (tar  that  directs  their  courfe  ? 
Perhaps  revenge,  or  fome  lefs- -glaring  vice, 
Their  bold  ambition,  or  their  avarice, 
Or  vanity  unmeaning,  throw-the  bowl  ; 
'Till  pride  and  palfion  urge  the  narrow  foul, 
To  claim  the  honours  of-that  heavenly  fla-me, 
That  warms  the  breaft>  and  crowns  the  patriot's  name. 

But  though  your  wives  in  fripperies  are  dfefs'd, 
And  public  virtue  is  the  minion's  jeft, 
America  has  many  -a  worthy  name,.  <. 
Who  (hall,  hereafter,  grace  the  rolls  of  fanve. 
Her  good  Cornelias,  and  her  Arrias  fair, 
Who,  death,  in  its  moft  hideous  forms,  can  dare, 
Rather  than  live  vain  fickle  fortune's  fport, 
Amidft  the  panders  of  a  tyrant's  court  ; 
With  a  long  lift  of  gen'rous,  -worthy  men, 
Who  fpurn  the  yoke,  and  fervitude  difda'm  j 
Who  nobly  ftruggle  in  a  vicious  age, 
To  (tern  the  torrent  of  defpotic  rage  ; 
Who  leagu'd,  in  folemn  covenant  unite^ 
And  by  the  manes  of  good  Hampden  plight^ 
That  while  the  ftirges  lafh  Britannia's  (hore, 
Or  wild  Ni'gara's  cataracts  fliall  roar, 
And  Heaven  looks  down,  and  fanclifies  the  deed, 
Tbe/11  fight  for  freedom,  and  for  virtue  bleed. 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


To     F  I  D  E  L  I  O, 

Long  abfent  on  the  great  public  Caufe,  which  agitated  all 
America,  in  1776. 


JL  HE  hill  tops  fmile  o'er  all  the  blooming  mead, 

As  I  alone,  on  Clifford's  fummit  tread  ; 

Traverfe  the  rural  walks,  the  gurgling  rills, 

Survey  the  beauties  of  thj  adjacent  hills  ; 

Tafle  the  delights  of  competence  and  health, 

Each  fober  pleafure  reafon  lends  to  wealth  : 

Yet  o'er  the  lawn  a  whifp'ring  echo  flghs, 

Thy  friend  is  abfent — my  fond  heart  replies — 

Say — do  not  friendship's  joys  outweigh  the  whole  ? 

*Tis  focial  converfe,  animates  the  foul. 

Thought  interchanged,  the  heavenly  fpark  improves, 

And  reafon  brightens  by  the  heart  it  loves  ; 

While  folitude  fits  brooding  o'er  her  cares, 

She  oft  accelerates  the  ills  me  fears  ; 

And  though  fond  hope  with  filken  hand  difplays, 

The  diftant  images  of  halcyon  days, 
Her  fable  brow  contra6ts  a  folemn  air, 

That  treads  too  near  the  thref hold  of  defpair  ; 
'Till  heav'n  "benign  the  choiceft  bleflings  lend, 
The  balm  of  life,  a  kind  and  faithful  friend  : 
This  higheft  gift,  by  heav'n  indulg'd,  I  claim  ; 
Afk,  what  is  happinefs  ? — My  friend,  I  name  : 
Yet  while  the  ftate,  by  fierce  internal  war, 
Shook  to  the  centre,  afks  his  zealous  care, 
I  mud  fubmit,  and  fmile  in  folitude, 
My  fond  affe&ion,  my  felf  love  fubdu'd  : 
The  times  demand  exertions  of  the  kind, 
A  patriot  zeal  muft  warm  the  female  mind. 

Yet 


314  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

Yet,  gentle  hope  ! — come,  fpread  thy  filken  wing* 
And  waft  me  forward  to  revolving  fpring  j 
Or  ere  the  vernal  equinox  returns, 
At  word,  before  the  fummer  folftice  burns, 
May  peace  again  erect  her  cheerful  fiand, 
Difperfe  the  ills  which  hover  o'er  the  land  ; 
May  every  virtuous  noble  minded  pair, 
Be  far  remov'd  from  the  dread  din  of  war  ; 
Then  each  warm  breaft  where  gen'rous  friendfijips  glow* 
Where  all  the  virtues  of  the  patriot  flow, 
Shall  tafte  each  joy  domeftic  life  can  yield, 
Nor  enter  more  the  martial  bloody  field. 

But,  hark  ! — alas  !  the  brave  Montgomery  dies, 
Oh,  heaven  forbid  that  fuch  a  facrifice, 
My  country  c-r  my  fex  fhould  yield  again, 
Or  fuch  rich  blood  pour  o'er  the  purpled  plain  r 
May  guilty  traitors  fatiate  the  grave, 
But  let  the  fword  forever — fpare  the  brave  ; 
I  weep  his  fall — I  weep  the  hero  flain, 
And  mingle  fighs  with  his  Janetta's  pain  : 
Yet  while  I  weep,  and  lend  the  pitying  figh, 
I  bow  the  knee,  and  lift  my  foul  on  high, 
That  virtue,  ftruggling  with  afiiduous  pains, 
May  free  this  country  from  defpotic  chains.. 
Long  life  I  afk,  and  bleflings  to  defcend, 
And  crown  the  efforts  of  my  conftant  friend  ; 
My  early  wifh,  and  evening  prayer  the  fame, 
That  virtue,  health,  and  peace,  and  honeft  fame, 
May  hover  o'er  thee,  till  time's  lateft  hour, 
Commiflionate  the  dread  refiftlefs  power  ; 
Then  gently  lay  thee  by  thy  Marcia's  clay, 
'Till  both  mall  rife,  and  on  a  tide  of  day, 

Be 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

Be  wafted  on,  and  fkim  the  ambient  plains 
Through  lucid  air,  and  fee  the  God  who  reigns. 

Where  cherubims  in  borrow 'd  luftre  fhine, 
We'll  hand  in  hand  our  grateful  homage  join  ; 
Beneath  his  throne,  where  lift'ning  angels  ftand, 
With  raptur'd  feraphs  wait  his  leaft  command. 

-  Clifford  Farm ,  177^ 


3i6  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

To  HONORIA,  on  her  JOURNEY  to  DO 
VER,  1777. 

JL  ANCY,  for  once,  her  airy  wing  (hall  fpread, 
And  fir  etch  -her  .pinions  o'er  the  verdant  mead  ; 
But  not  to  fing  of  fierce,  or  hoftile  ranks, 
Or  heroes  conq'ring  on  the  Ganges'  bank-s  ; 
Nor  frozen  Danube,  nor  the  Tyber's  ftream, 
But  happy  Dover,  is  my  gentler  theme. 

With  good  Honoria  would  I  trace  the  fcene, 
The  fiow'ry  lawns,  the  grots  of  evergreen  ; 
The  lofty  elms,  and  all  the  blooming  pride, 
Where  Dover's  filv'ry  winding  waters  glide  ; 
Pleas'd  with  the  bounties  that  kind  najtore  pours 
Profufely  down  from  her  e^liauftlefs  ftores  : 
But  yet  I  feel  my  feeble  pinions  droop, 
Nor  dare  I  truft  the  filken  wing  of  hope  ; 
Left  when  exalted  in  my  brittle  car, 
To  fail  aloft  as  phaeton  in  air, 
I  meet  the  fate  of  that  prefumptuous  youth, 
Whofe  mad  ambition  taught  one  folemn  truth  j 
And  bade  dull  genius  tread  his  deftin'd  fphere, 
Nor  fcorch  his  wings  by  venturing  too  near, 
The  facred  mount,  devoted  to  the  mufe, 
And  thus  difgufted,  all  the  nine  refufe, 
To  dictate  numbers  that  may  flow  with  eafe, 
And  moft  I  fail,  when  moft  I  wifli  to  pleafe. 

Will  the  foft  mantle  of  a  gentle  friend, 
Then  cover  all  that  truth  cannot  commend  ? 
Yet  this,  perhaps,  might  fruftrate  my  defign, 
She,  in  oblivion,  might  enwrap  each  line  ; 

For 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  217 

For  ev«ry  portrait  that  my  pen  can  paint, 

To  her  defcriptive  eloquence  is  faint  j 

As  white  befide  the  winding  ftrearn  fhe  roves, 

And  views  the  profpefts  from  the  pleafmg  groves, 

She  lifts  her  heart  to  celebrate  the  hand, 

That  fcatters  bleflings  o'er  this  happy  land  ; 

This  land  of  plenty,  this  delicious  vine, 

By  heav'n  mark'd  out  for  fome  augufl  defign* 

Truth's  facred  banners  may^e  here  unfurl'^ 
And  genius  fpread  her  graces  o'er  the  world ; 
Here  other  Boyles  or  Newtons  yet  may  rife, 
And  trace  the  wonders  of  the  weftern  fkies  ,; 

More  than  one  W p  may  adorn  the  feat, 

Of  bright  Apollo's  favorite  retreat  ; 

When  Harvard's  fons  may  fpread  the  arts  refin'd, 

Diffufing  knowledge  o'er  theliuman  mind  ; 

While  every  ftar  its  kindly  influence  lends, 

"Till  Harvard's  fame  throughout  the  world  extends. 

Then  fmiling  Ceres,  placid  and  ferene, 
Shall  unmolefted  her  ripe  vintage  glean  ; 
Sweet  harmony  ereft  heir  graceful  head, 
And  happy  peafants  tread  the  cheerful  glade. 

Event§  roll  o'er,  and  on  the  wing  of  time, 
Difclofe  new  wonders — fyftems  more  fublime  f 
Yet  rapid  thought  anticipates  the  fcene, 
Sees  empire  riflng  with  majeftic  mein  ; 
When  peace  again  fhall  glad  Columbia's  fhore. 
And  conq'ring  heroes  freedom  fliall  reftore  ; 
When  troops  no  more  are  canton'd  round  the  plain, 
Nor  vicYries  won,  nor  routed  armies  (lain  j 
When  frefh  blown  laurels  fpring  from  Warren's  grave, 
Freedom  to  drefs;  and  decorate  the  brave, 

T  For 


siS  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

For  whom  kind  fortune  wreathes  the  crown  of  fame> 

And  ftamps  th'  initials  of  her  fav'rite  name  ; 

When  Washington,  confpicuous  o'er  the  reft, 

By  heroes,  patriots,  and  by  foes  carefs'd, 

May  quit  the  field,  and  court  the  rural  fcene  ; 

There  with  his  friend,  the  good  and  valiant  Greeny 

With  confcious  worth  each  victory  review, 

And  ftill  Columbia's  happinefs  purfue. 

Yet  both  rmi  ft  weep  the  cold  Canadian  plain, 

Where  a  Montgomery,  and  a  Wolfe  were  flain. 

How  have  I  left  fair  Dover's  rippling  ftream, 
"To  gurgle  on,  and  touched  a  bolder  theme  ! — 
Forgive  my  wand'ring  from  the  beauteous  groves, 
Where  warb'ling  fongfters  chant  their  vernal  loves. 

Vaft  crowded  fcenes,  have  rufli'd  upon  the  mind, 
And  led  me  far  from  what  I  firft  defign'd. 
I'll  check  the  fallies  of  my  rambling  mufe, 
If  candor  thefe  excurfions  will  excufe  : 
Or  if  my  friend,  the  good  Helvidius,  deign, 
To  hark  a  moment  to  the  pu'rile  drain  ; 
If  from  the  wonders  of  the  vaft  expanfe, 
Where  viewing  long  the  planetary  dance. 
He  fifflM^e  ftarry  region  will  defcend, 
And™     ft  chide  the  follies  a  friend  ; 
I'll  ruarWfie  cenfure  as  a  proof  fincere 
Of  gen'rous  friendfhip,  and  the  frown  revere  j- 
Though  it  enjoins  long  filence  on  my  pen, 
The  mandate  I'll  obey — nor  write  again, 


LINES, 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


LINES, 

Written  after  a  'very  fever  e  TEMPEST,  <u>bicb  cleared  up  ex 
tremcly  pleafant. 

W  HEN  rolling  thunders  fliake  tlie  fkies, 

And  lightnings  fly  from  pole  to  pole  j 
When  threatening  whirlwinds  rend  the  air, 
What  terrors  feize  th'  affrighted  foul  !— 

Aghaft  and  pale  with  thrilling  fear, 
He  trembling  (lands  in  wild  amaze  ; 

Nor  knows  for  fhelter  where  to  hide, 
To  fcreen  him  from  the  livid  blaze, 

Happy  the  calm  and  tranquil  breaft, 

That  with  a»fkady  equal  mind, 
Can  view  thofe  flying  fiiafts  of  death, 

With  heart  and  will  at  once  refignM  !—  » 


e> 


Oh  !  thou  Supreme  Eternal  King, 
At  whofe  command  the  tempefts  rage8 

With  equal  eafe  can  worlds  deftroy, 
Or  with  a  word,  the  ftorm  afluage. 

And  though  impetuous  tempefts  roar, 

And  penetrating  flames  furround, 
Thou  bid'ft  them  ceafe— -the  thunder's  hufh'd,    > 

And  reft  and  filence  reign  profound. 

Thus  have  we  feen  thy  power  and  might, 

Adoring,  we  thy  works  furvey  ; 
'Tis  thou  dire<5l'ft  the  pointed  flame, 

And  thus  thy  goodnefs  doft  difplay^  -^ 

" 


aao  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS* 

Thou  haft  composed  the  rapid  winds, 
And  lull'd  to  reft  the  foaming  wave  ; 

The  clouds  diipers'd,  each  twinkling  ftar 
Proclaims  aloud  thy  power  to  favc. 

The  filver  moon,  the  glorious  orbs, 
That  fwim  aloft  in  boundlefs 

Their  rays  refplendent  all  unite, 
T©  celebrate  at  once  thy  praife. 


MISCELLANEOUS  FOEMS,  aa* 

To  a  YOUNG  GENTLEM AM,  refilling  in 
FRANCE. 

X  HE  new  year  opes — the  early  morning  dawns* 
Broad  meets  of  filver  drefs  the  whiten'd  lawns  ; 
Bleak  winter  rifes  from  the  brindled  north, 
The  tempeft  makes,  and  furious  blafts  pour  forth. 

From"  nature's  dawn,  to  nature's  latefl  hour, 
Each  fpangled  leaf  befpeaks  creative  pow'r  ; 
The  vernal  dew  drops,  or  autumnal  breath, 
That  wraps  the  folizge  in  the  arms  of  death  j 
The  yew-,  the  cyprefs,  or  the  blooming  rofe, 
India's  long  fummer,  or  the  Lapland  fnows, 
Alike  proclaim,  what  fceptic  fools  deny, 
The  foul's  fupport — a  providential  eye. 

This  glorious  truth  my  opening  lids  furvey'd, 
My  grateful  heart  its  early  homage  paid  ; 
Then  fwiftly  wafts  its  warmeft  wiflies  o'er 
To  find  *  *  *  on  the  Gallic  more. 


13    (ULG11U, 

riend^ 


"  Long  health,  long  peace,  long- happinefs  attend," 
The  lovely  youth,  and  bring  me  back  my  friei 
Unhurt,  unlhackled  by  the  triple  chains 
Of  folly,  pride,  or  pleafure's  guilty  fcenes. 
\Vheri  he  has  travell'd  o'er  from  ftage  to  ftage, 
The  diftant  world,  and  read  life's  gaudy  page, 
Oh  !  may  he  quit  th'"illufive,  airy  chace, 
And  retrofpefl  the  happy  path  of  peace. 
True  happinefs  confilts  in  real  worth> 
And  makes  her  exit  when  loft  fight  of  truth  ; 
The  heaven  born  prize  is  not  the  gift  of  gold, 

Of  princes,  ftatefmen,  or  whole  countries  fold  i 

T  a  'Tis 


22*  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS, 

"Tis  not  the  lap  of  luxury  difplay'd 

In  all  the  fpoils  of  innocence  betray 'd  ; 

Nor  will  the  fmiles  of  witlings  or  of  kings, 

The  laugh  licentious  of  fuch  motley  things, 

Give  joy  or  peace  to  fterling  worth  or  fenfe, 

'Tis  honeft  probity,  with  competence, 

That  calms  the  mind,  and  fmooths  the  manly  mein, 

And  (hews  the  world  true  happinefs  within. 

Search  o'er  the  globe — the  circling  ball  traverfe— • 
Let  Britifh  bards  their  Gothic  tales  rehearfe  j 
Let  Grecian  pens,  or  modern  poets  fing, 
The  feats  of  ancients,  or  of  Bourbon's  king  ; 
The  fage,  the  bard,  the  fcepter'd  hand,  combin'd, 
Have  nought  to  barter  for  a  virtuous  mind. 

The  herald's  page,  emblazoning  high  birth, 
The  longed  lift  of  ancefiry  on  earth, 
Ennobles  not,  nor  dignifies  the  fon, 
'Till  merit  makes  the  deeds  renown'd,  his  own, 

Methinks  I  hear  the  youthful  bofcm  figb, 
And  nature  whifper  fancy's  fond  reply  ; 
"  Thefe  old  ideas  are  quite  out  of  date, 
Can  man  be  happy  without  pomp  or  ftate  ? 
He  who  can  wealth  and  pageantry  difclaim, 
May  mark  the  willows  with  his  blighted  name  j 
Hid  in  the  caverns  of  fome  dark  retreat, 
And  wrap'd  in  canvas,  the  wild  anchoret 
May  weep,  or  rave  in  filence  or  defpair, 
And  groans  reecho  with  the  whittling  air." 

Not  fo,  my  fon,  did  Hercules  demean, 
When  rival  goddeflTes  adorn'd  the  fcene  j 
The  Cyprian  queen  a  thoufand  lurenients  fpread, 

A  modeft  glory  crown'd  Minerva's  head  ; 

Pleafure's 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS".  a 

Pleasure's  bright  nymph  new  deck'd  her  charming  face* 

But  virtue  beckon'd  with  a  milder  grace  ; 

Love's  little  urchin,  by  his  mother  taught, 

Ten  thoufand  joys  in  fancy's  bofom  wrought  ; 

Fond  wifhes  warm'd,  the  youthful  hero  figh'd, 

'Till  Virtue  (hew'd  him  to  the  gods  alli'd. 

The  fpark  celeftial  kindled  in  his  breaft, 

The  man,  the  hero,  and  the  god  confefs'd  ; 

Pleafure  turn'd  pale,  and  drop'd  her  wither'd  wand, 

Triumphant  Virtue  lent  her  willing  hand, 

And  led  him  on  to  every  glorious  deed 

His  anceftors  atchiev'd,  or  heav'n  decreed. 

Thy  native  land  is  big  with  mighty  fcenc.3, 
And  fate  rolls  rapid  o'er  her  vivid  greens  ; 
What  time  unfolds,  the  mufe  muft  yet  conceal, 
And  leave  a  blank  for  bolder  pens  to  fill  ; 
But  ere  me  quits  the  dark  prophetic  lays, 
Let  her  retrace,  and  recollect  the  days, 
When,  by  the  margin  of  the  w'eilern  tide, 
Young  empire  fprung  from  proud  oppreilion's  fide  j 
The  infant  flourifh'd,  nurs'd  by  freedom's  hand, 
Who  fpread  her  banners  o'er  a  bleeding  land. 

Economy,  to  virtue  clofe  alli'd, 
A  frugal  pair,  with  wifdom  by  their  fide, 
And  ruddy  health,  Aurora's  offspring  fmil'd, 
And  promis'd  vigour  to  the  new  born  child  ; 
The  maid,  carefs'd  by  potentates  and  kings, 
Rais'd  high  her  fame,  and  fpread  her  growing  wings, 

But,  'midft  the  profpeft  fuddenly  appear'd, 
A  hideous  form  whofe  front  by  heaven  was  fear'd  ; 
From  envy's  gulph  the  phantom  feem'd  to  rife, 

His  head  he  reaj'd,  and  roll'd  his  redden'd  eyes  j 

*     His 


a14  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

His  forky  fang,  and  livid  lip,  reveai'd, 
The  crooked  form,  a  gaudy  veft  conceal'd  ^ 
Large  tablets  mark'd  the  monger's  gaily  brear. 
And  AV'RICE  flood  confpicuous  on  his  creft  ; 
His  tainted  breath  infects-  from  (hore  to  fliore^ 
And  poifons  all  the  generous  fountains  o'er. 
True  public  fpirit  floated  down  the  tide, 
While  difllpation  danc'd  by  folly's  fide  ; 
Soft  filken  breezes  fan'd  her  fluttering  wing, 
And  golden  fhowers  hid  her  guilty  fling  ; 
The  molten  calves  fall  pruftrate  at  her  ftirine, 
Sip  the  new  joys,  mifiaken  for  divine. 
A  fudden  guft,  in  part,  the  mift  difpell'd, 
And  fhew'd  Columbia  on  a  broken  fhield  : 
She  wept,  and  totter'd  on  the  rapid  flream, 
'Till  it  rufh'd  back,  and  broke  the  flattering  dream  . 
Her  trembling  lip  in  quivering  accents  faiJ1, 
Alas  !  am  I  by  half  my  friends  betray fd  ? 
Though  noble  names  from  diftant  realms  repair, 
And  breathe  new  vigour  in  the- northern  air  ; 
Yet  dangers  threat,  and  diflant  thunders  roar  j 
Convuliive  ftorms  may  rage  from  fi^ore  to  more. 

If  Attic  annals  don't  miflead  the  mufe, 
And  old  Amphyclions  had  their  private  views> 
Some  latent  fpark  of  wild,  exotic  growth, 
Engender'd  there,  may  flourifh  in  the  fouth  j* 
Ambitious  Philips  live  in  modern  times, 
And  hold  improvements  make  on  Grecian  crimes. 

Yet  in  the  field  exalted  heroes  Hand, 
And,  while  he  lives,  may  Wuftungton  command  ! 

The 

*  This  piece  was  written  at  a  period  when  certain  characters} 
in  fome  of  th«v  fouthern  ftates,  were  fafpe£ed  of  defigns  unfa* 
vor&fcle  to  the  liberties  of  America. 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  125 

The  focial  virtues  claim  him  for  their  own, 
An  hero  born,  fair  freedom's  favorite  fon  ;       , 
Frefli  myrtles  fpring,  and  never  fading  bays, 
Live  where  he  fought,,  and  mark  his  glorious  days  J 
While  virtue's  hand  enrols  La  Fayette's  name, 
And  ranks  him  high  on  the  bright  lift  of  fame. 

Is  thy  young  bofom  warm'd  with  patriot  zeal  ? 
An  ardent  glow  to  ferve  the  common  weal  ? 
Or  does  ambition  lead  thee  to  the  field, 
In  war  to  conflict,  and  the  faulchion  wield  ? 
From  Hector's  days  to  haughty  Casfar's  time, 
When  finking  Rome,  ingulph'd  in  every  crime, 
When  ravag'd  Gaul  had  fwell'd  the  tyrant's  pride, 
And  crimfon  torrents  wafh'd  the  Danube's  fide  ; 
Nor  yet  when  Charles,  ajid  his  more  bloody  fon, 
On  carnage  fed,  till  Europe  was  undone  ; 
(The  Rhine  ran  red,  the  low  lands  overflow'd, 
And  every  city  fmoak'd  with  patriot  blood  :) 
Yet  hiftory  has  never  mark'd  a  page, 
With  feats  more  glorious  than  the  prefent  age  ; 
No  fmitten  plains,  or  reeking  fields  aftbrd, 
A  fairer  caufe  to  draw  an  hero's  fword, 
Than  does  thy  country,  ravag'd  and  diftrefs'd, 
While  war's  hoarfe  clarion  roars  from  eaft  to  weft, 

Yet  private  virtue  wants  the  youth's  fupport  j 
Leave  all  the  fopperies  of  a  foreign  court  j 
*  *  *  come,  with  every  virtue  fraught, 
By  principle  and  precept,  early  taught, 
A  bright  example  fhine  among  the  firfr, 
Good  as  thy  fire — as  Ariftides  juft  ; 
Then  may  thy  youth  and  manners  both  engage, 
And  fmile  contempt  en  folly's  pu'rile  rage. 

When 


*26  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

When  wintry  blafts  no  more  fhall  tear  the  plain, 
And  thy  fond  wi flies  bear  thee  o'er  the  main  ; 
"When  loft  Favonius  fans  the  vernal  breeze, 
And  Boreas'  breath  fhali  ceafe  to  la(h  the  Teas  ; 
My  foreft  birds. fweet  warbling  notes  (hall  fing, 
And  hail  thy  welcome  with  returning  fpring. 

The  long  lov'd  manfion  that  firfl  gave  thee  birth. 
The  happy  dome  that  nurs'd  thy  early  youth, 
Is  left  awhile  to  tafte  the  fylvan  gale, 
As  life  treads  downwards  thro'  time's  narrow  vale  ; 
And  if  benignant  heaven  ftill  protect, 
And  tow'rds  thy  natal  foil  thy  fteps  direct, 
Hafte  to  the  vrtlaon  the  fou them  fide 
Cf  fweet  Tremont,  v.hofe  wavy  waters  glide 
Near  the  fair  fummit  of  a  lofty  mount, 
Where  wild  woods  fhade  a  foft  meandering  fount, 
That  gentty  rolls  and  forms  a  fmall  cafcade, 
By  nature's  hand  irregularly  made  ; 
The  towering  oaks  and  riftng  hill  tops  vie 
To  fhade  the  radiance  of  the  weftern  fky  ; 
The  floping  lawns  and  Howery  meads  combine 
To  form  the  landfcape  on  a  bold  defign  ; 
The  opening  bay  a  winding  river  bounds, 
And  fcatter'd  ifles  erecl:  their  verdant  mounds  ; 
The  grey  ey'd  morn  her  ftreaked  pinions  fpreads, 
And  diftant  mountains  rear  their  blufhing  heads  j 
The  broad  Atlantic*s  rolling  tide  between, 
Heightens  the  grandeur  of  th'  enchanting  fcene  j, 
The  whiten 'd  furges  gently  wafli  the  more, 
While  filver  rills  run  foftly  rippling  o'er. 

The  fragrant  banks,  whofe  native  borders  rife 
In  beauteous  foliage  of  a  thoufand  dyes  j 

The 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  22} 

The  tufted  flowers  meet  the  cluttering  vine, 

That  wildly  rambles  o'er  the  conic  pine  ; 

The  darkening  cedars  form  the  grotto's  (hade, 

And  greener  willows  fan  the  fertile  glade  ; 

A  little  alcove  opes  on  either  hand, 

Where  the  tall  larch  and  vivid  limes  afcend  ; 

The  lengthened  vifta  widens  through  the  dale, 

Where  fportive  flocks  play  o'er  the  gloffy  vale  ; 

From  hence  we  view  along  the  watery  way, 

Great  Bourbon's  flag  and  dreaming  pendants  play. 

In  this  retreat  refide  thy  happy  friends, 
Content  and  health  benignant  heaven  lends  ; 
A  focial  board,  with  frugal  plenty  crown'd, 
A  generous  welcome  fmiles  on  all  around  ; 
The  day  glides  on,  and  when  the  eve  returns, 
Fraternal  love  in  every  bofom  burns  ; 
Each  virtue  planted  in  the  youthful  brealf, 
The  parents  finile,  in  future  profpefts  bleft. 

Domeftic  peace,  a  confcious  upright  mind, 
Is  honour,  wealth,  and  every  good  combin'd  : 
Return,  my  fon,  for  nothing  elfe  we  need, 
To  fee  thee  happy,  would  be  blifs  indeed, 

Milton,  January  i,  17$  2, 


as*  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

'?Te>  -a  patriotic  Gentleman,  «7x-/-o  prefented  afmall  Book  of  Bark, 
requeuing  a  POEM  might  be  'written  therein^  on  PRLM-- 
1TIVE  SIMPLICITY. 


the  fmooth  papyrus  of  ancient  times, 
Nature's  bright  charms,  I'd  paint  in  fimple  rhymes  ; 
The  blifs  fuperiour  of  thofe  happy  driys, 
When  on  the  bark  the  bard  infcrib'd  his  lays  ; 
But,  when  imrners'd  amidft  ten  thoufand  cares, 
Domeflic  duties,  and  fome  foreign  fears; 
When  avocations  of  the  focial  kind, 
Engrofs  the  heart,  and  fill  the  bufy  mind, 
Pegafus  often  does  his  aid  refufe, 
And  fentiment  will  not  affift  the  mufe. 

Thus  circumftanc'd,  I'll  not  indulge  the  pride, 
To  pick  one  flower  from  Parnafius  fide  ; 
Much  lefs  attempt  its  fummit  to  explore, 
Though  much  I  love  Scamander's  rippling  fhore  ; 
I'll  check  my  wifh,  and  drop  my  humble  wing, 
Pleas'd  with  the  laurels  that  for  others  fpring  : 
Yet  fnatch  a  moment,  when  my  friends/command. 
And  point  the  period  with  a  willing  hand  ; 
And  if  the  lagging  numbers  flovvly  move, 
I'll  hope  a  pardon  from  the  voice  of  love. 
Critics  may  cenfure,  but  if  candour  frowns, 
I'll  quit  the  pen,  and  keep  within  the  bounds, 
The  narrow  bounds,  prefcrib'd  to  female  life, 
The  gentle  miftrefs,  and  the  prudent  wife  : 
Maternal  precepts,  drawn  from  facred  truth, 
Shall  warm  the  bofom  of  the  lift'ning  youth  ; 
While  the  kind  mother  afts  her  little  part, 
And  (lamps  the  tablet  on  the  infant  heart, 

Each 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  219 

Each  fervent  wifli,  I  to  my  country  lend, 

And  thus  fubfcribe,the  patriot's  faithful  friend. 


SIMPLICITY. 

DEEP  in  the  bofom  of  old  Time  there  flood, 
Juft  on  the  margin  of  the  fea  green  flood, 
A  virgin  form,  in  lucid  robes  array'd, 
Whole  ebon  treflTes  negligently  play'd 
In  flowing  ringlets,  as  the  wavy  main    , 
Felt  the  foft  breeze  that  fann'd  the  verdant  plain  ; 
While  the  young  blufli  of  innocence  befpoke 
Her  innate  worth  in  every  graceful  look  ; 
Her  meek  ey'd  afpe&,  modeft  and  benign, 
Evinc'd  the  fair  one's  origin  divine  ; 
Virtue,  at  once  her  ornament  and  fhield, 
And  Truth  the  trident  that  the  goddefs  held. 

Beneath  her  reign,  behold  a  happy  race, 
Who  ne'er  contefied  titles,  gold,  or  place. 
Ere  commerce*  whiten'd  fails  were  wafted  wide, 
And  every  bofom  caught  the  fwelling  pride 
Of  boundlefs  wealth,  furcharg'd  with  endlefs  fnares, 
Exotic  follies,  and  definitive  cares  ; 
Ere  arts,  or  elegance,  or  tafle  refin'd, 
And  tempting  luxury,  afTail'd  mankind  ; 
Their  oaks  and  evergreens,  and  poplar  fhades, 
In  native  beauty,  rear'd  their  conic  heads  } 
The  purple  tinge  with  golden  hues  inwrought, 
In  dappled  forms,  as  fportive  nature  taught  ; 
The  lilken  foliage  open'd  through  the  mead, 
And  the  clear  font  in  wild  meanders  play'd  j 
Befide  whofe  gentle  murm'ring  ftream  there  flood 
The  humble  hamlet,  by  the  peafant  trod, 

U  Whofe 


sjo  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

Wliofe  heart,  unblacken'd  by  fo  mean  a  vice, 
As  luft  of  gold,  or  carking  avarice  ;         ' 
No  guilty  bribes  his  whiten 'd  palm  poifefs'd, 
No  dark  fufpicion  lurk'd  within  his  breaft  : 
J.ove,  concord,  peace,  and  piety  and  truth, 
Adorn'd  grey  hairs,  and  dignifi'd  the  youth  ; 
There  ftinglefs  pleafures  crown'd  the  temp'rate  feaft, 
And  ruddy  health,  a  conftant  welcome  gueft, 
Fill'd  up  the  cup,  and  fmil'd  at  every  board, 
U  he  friend  and  handmaid  of  her  generous 'lord. 

The  rofy  finger'd  morn,  and  noontide  ray, 
The  ftreaked  twilight,  or  the  evening  grey, 
'Were  pafs'd  alike  in  innocence  and  mirth, 
No  riot  gendering  flow  but  certain  death  ; 
Unclouded  reafon  guided  all  their  way, 
And  virtue  Vfclf  fat  innocently  gay  ; 
The  winged  hours  ferenely  glided  by, 
'Till  golden  Phoebus  deck'd  the  weftern  fky  ; 
And  when  enwrap'd  in  evening's  fable  veft, 
And  midriight  fhadows  hufh'd  ihe  world  to  reft, 
On  the  fam'd  ladder,  whofe  extended  bars, 
From  earth's  low  furface  reach'd  beyond  the  fta-rs, 
From  orb  to  orb,  thought  reach'd  the  airy  void, 
Through  widen'd  fpace  the  bufy  mind  employ'd, 
While  angel  guards  to  watch  his  fate  were  given 
Prelufive  dreams  antic'4\ated  heaven. 

But  ere  the  bird  of  morn  liad  hail'd  the  day, 
Or  warbling  fongfters  chirp 'd  their- early  lay, 
The  grateful  heart  its  joyful  matins  rais'd, 
And  nature's  God  in  moroing  anthems  prais'd. 

Thus  happy  that  ideal  golden  age, 
lives  defensive  in  the  pcet's  page  ; 

But 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS..  2-3 

Bnt  now,  alas  !  in  dark  oblivion  loft, 
The  fons  of  Adam  know  it  to  their  coft  ; 
Since  God  forbad  the  mother  of  mankind 
To  tafle  the  fruit  to  which  fhe  moft  inclin'd  : 
Her  tafle  fo  delicate,  refin'd  and  nice, 
That  the  exuberance  ev'n  of  Paradife, 
The  grafly  banks  belide  the  blue  cafcade, 
The  winding  dream  from  Pifjn's  golden  head, 
The  fpicy  grov-es  on  Gihon's  lengthen'd  fide, 
Hidekel's  font,  Affyria's  blooming  pride, 
T,he  fruits  luxuriant  on  Euphrates'  mores, 
The  rich  profusion -that  all  Eden  pours$ 
*The  fliady  dome,  the  rofy  vaulted  bower, 
And  nature  deck'd  with  every  fruit  and  flower, 
Were  inefficient,  rude,  and  incomplete, 
For  tafte  ran  wanton,  and  the  fair  muft  eat. 

Since  which  the  garden's  clofely  lock'd  by  fate, 
And  flaming  cherubs  guard  the  eaftern  gate  ; 
This  globe  is  travers'd  round  from  pole  to  pole, 
And  earth  refearch'd  to  find  fo  rich  a  dole 
As  happinefs  unmix'd  ; — the  phantom  flies, 
No  fon  of  Eve  has  ever  won  the  prize. 

But  neareft  thofe,  who  neareft  nature  live, 
Defpifing  all  that  wealth,  or  pow'r  can  give, 
Or  glitt'ring  grandeur,  whofe  falfe  optics  place 
Thzfummum  bonum  on  the  fraileft  bafe  \ 
And  if  too  near  the  threfhold  of  their  door, 
Pride  blazes  high,  and  clamours  loud  for  more- 
More  mining  pomp,  more  elegance  and  zeft, 
In  all.  the  wild  variety  of  tafle  ; 
Peace  and  contentment  are  refin M  away, 
And  worth,  unblemim'd,  is  the  villain's  prey. 

Eafy 


a**  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

Eafy  the  toil,  and  fimple  is  the  tafk, 
That  yields  to  man  all  nature  bids  him  afk  ; 
And  each  improvement  on  the  author's  plan^ 
Adds  new  inquietudes  to  reftlefs  man. 
As  from  fimplicity  he  deviates, 
Fancy,  prolific,  endlefs  wants  creates  ; 
Creates  new  wifl)es,  foreign  to  the  foul, 
Ten  thoufand  paffions  all  the  mind  control; 
So  faft  they  tread  behind  each  other's  heels 
That  feme  new  image  on  the  fancy  deals  ; 
Ere  the  young  embrio  half  its  form  completes, 
Some  new  vagary  the  old  plan  defeats  ; 
Down  comes  the  Gothic  or  Corinthian  pile, 
And  the  r«ew  vifta  wears  the  Doric  ftile. 
The  finer  arts  depopulate  and  wafte, 
And  nations  fink  by  elegance  and  tafte  : 
Empires  are  from  their  lofty  fummits  rent, 
And  kingdoms  down  to  fwift  perdition  fenr, 
By  foft,  corrupt,  refinements  of  the  heart, 
Wrought  up  to  vice  by  each  deceptive  art. 

Rome,  the  proud  miftre/s  of  the  world,  difplays 
A  lading  proof  of  what  rny  pen  eflTays  ; 
High  wrought  refinement — ufher'd  in  replete, 
With  all  the  ills  that  fink  a  virtuous  ftate  ; 
Their  fumptuary  laws  grown  obfolete, 
They,  undifmay'd,  the  patriot's  frown  could  meet  j 
Their  fimple  manners  loft—their  cenfors  dead, 
Spruce  petif  maitres  o*er  the  forum  tread. 

I  weep  thofe  days  when  gentle  Maro  fung, 
And  fweeteft  ftrains  bedeck'd  the  ftatt'rer's  tongue  j 
When  fo  corrupt  and  fo  refin'd  the  times, 
The  mufe  could  ft»op  to  gild  a  tyrant's  crimes. 

Then 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  23? 

Then  .paint  and  fcutpttire,  elegance  and  fong, 
Were  the  purfuits  of  all  the  bufy  throng  ; 
When  filken  commerce  held  the  golden  fcalcs, 
Empire  was  purchas'd  at  the  public  fales  : 
No  longer  liv'd  the  ancient  Roman  pride, 
Her  virtue  ficken'd,  and  her  glory  di'd. 

What  blotted  out  the  Carthaginian  fame, 
And  left  no  traces  but  an  empty  name  ? — 
Commerce  !  the  fource  of  every  narrow  vice, 
And  honour,  .barter'd  at  a  trivial  price. 
By  court  intrigues,  the  Commonwealth's  difgrac'd, 
Both  fufFetes  and  fenators  debas'd  : 
By  foft  refinement,  and  the  love  of  gold, 
Faction  and  ftrife  grew  emulous  and  bold,. 
'Till  reftlefs:Hanno  urg'd  his  purpofe  on,. 
And  Scipio's  rival  by  his  art's  undone. 

From  age  to  age,  iince  Hannibal's  hard  fate, 
From  Caefar's  annals  to  the  modern  date, 
When  Brunfwick's  race  fits  on  the  Eritifh  throne, 
And  George's  folly  (tains  his  grandlire's  crown  ; 
When  tafte's  improv'd  by  luxury  high  wrought, 
And  fancy  craves  what  nature  never  taught  j 
Affronted  virtue  mounts  her  native  fides, 
And  freedom's  genius  lifts  her  bloated  eyes  ; 
As  late  I  faw,  in  fable  veilments  ftand, 
The  weeping  fair,  on  Britain's  naked  ftrand. 

The  cloud  capt  hills,  the  echoing  woods  and  dales, 
(Where  pious  druids  drefs'd  the  hallow'd  vales  j 
And  wrote  their  mifiels  on  the  birchen  rind, 
And  chanted  dirges  with  the  hollow  wind,) 
Breathe  murmuring  fighs  o'er  that  ill  fated  ifle, 
Wrapt  in  refinements  both  abfurd  and  vile. 

U  *  Proud 


^34  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

Proud  Thames  deferted — her  commercial  ports 
Seiz'd  and  potlefs'd  by  hated  foreign  courts  ; 
No  more  the  lofty  fhlps  her  marts  fupply, 
The  Nereids  flap  their  watry  wings  and  die  : 
Grey  Neptune  rifes  from  his  oozy  bed, 
And  fliakes  the  fea  weed  from  his  fliaggy  head  ; 
He  bids  adieu  to  fair  Britannia's  fliore, 
The  furge  rebounds,  and  all  the  woodlands  roar  > 
His  courfe  he  bends  towards  the  weftern  main, 
The  frownmg  Titans  join  the  fvvelling  train, 
Meafure  the  deep,  and  lafli  the  foaming  fea, 
In  hafte  to  hail  the  brave  Columbia  free  : 
Ocean  rebounds,  and  earth  reverberates, 
And  Heaven  confirms  the  independent  Rates  ; 
While  time  rolls  on,  and  mighty  kingdoms  fail,, 
They,  peace  and  freedom  on  their  heirs  entail,, 
'Till  virtue  finks,  and  in  far  diftant  tunes, 
Dies  in  the  vortex  of  European  crimes.. 

Plymouth,  October,  1779, 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS,  235 

On  the  DE  AT;H  oftbi  Hon.  JOHN  W INTHROP, 
Efq.  L.  L.  D.  HOLLISIANT  PROFESSOR  of 
MATHEMATICKS  and  NATURAL  PHILOSO 
PHY,  #/  HARVARD  COLLEGE,  CAMBRIDGE, 


Addre/ed  to  b':s  LADY, 


A 


SERAPH  (hot  acrofs  the  plain, 
The  lucid  form  difplay'd, 
The  (tarry  round  he  here  explor'd, 

And  cry'd — "  great  Winthrop's  dead," 

Down  through  the  planetary  fields, 

Where  countlels  fyftems  roll, 
A  Newton's  glorious  kindred  fhade, 

Defcends  to  meet  his  foul. 

They  through  .the  tracklefs  paths  of  light  • 

Still  wonder,  and  adore, 
And  mount  towards  the  central  fource, 

Of  all  creative  power. 

But  lo  !  the  fons  of  Harvard  weep, 

And  fcience  drops  a  tear, 
Philofophy,  her  favorite  mourns* 

And  ftoic  fouls  revere. 

The  wrangling  difputant  abafh'd, 

Adores  great  nature's  God, 
And  zealoufly  explores  the  path 

Th'  illuftrious  fage  has  trod. 

As  life  forfook  his  dying  lids, 
Faith  view'd  the  glorious  prize, 

Yel 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

Yet  nature  dropt  a  friendly  tear 
Before  he  reach'd  the  fides. 

Though  death  with  "dewy  fingers  cold/' 

Pervades  the  fainted  bro\v, 
Compafllon  mov'd  the  quivering  lip, , 

And  in  a  laft  adieu- 
He  his  laft  fancYion  to  the  truth, 

To  doubting  fceptics  leaves. 
While- weeping  friends  deplore  his  lofs* . 

And  fad  Honoria  grieves  ; : 

He  fighVl — "  the. ancient  fages  grop'd 
"  Through  error's  mazy  round, 

"  Through  earth  and  air,  to  hell's,  abyfs^ 
"  They  fought  one  caufe  profound — 

"  One  Great  Firft  Caufe — in  every  form, 

"  In  every  ftar  they  greet, 
•'  F  roil*  Woden's  dark  and  dreary  cave, 

"  To  Jove's  etherial -feat. 

"  They  fnatch'd  each  feeble  ray  of  light, 

"  And  cherifh'd  to  a  flame, 
"  As  nature  in  ten  thoufand  forms 

"  Spake  one  eternal  name. 

"  Kind  Heaven  beheld  a  wandering  world, 

**  With  altais  rear'd  to  fate, 
"  And  condefcended  to  reveal 

"  A  pure,  immortal  (late. 

**  But  clearer  light  in  modern  time 
tl  Our  wifer  youth  has  taught, 

"Whatever  Socrates  might  preach, 
««  Or  gloomy  Plato  thought, , 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  23? 

**  Are  but  enthuilaflic  dreams  ; 

*'  And  fuch,  the  perfect  code,  f 

ft  Seal'd  by  a  meflfenger  divine, 

"  Thefacred  fon  of  God. 

"  By  fancy's  ebullitions  fvvellM 

"  With  philofophic  fume, 
"  Both  Mofes  and  Saint  Paul  renounce, 

"  For  evangelic  Hume.          ' 

««  Shall  fuch  intelligence  and  thought 

"  As  actuates  a  mind, 
"  Like  reas'ning  Locke,  or  pious  Boyle, 

"  To  Hades  be  confign'd  ? — 

'*  No  more  to  live— no  more  to  think, 

"  But  perifh  as  the  brute  ; 
"  This  for  the  Chriftian  faith  and  hope, 

<«  Ah  !  what  a  fubftitute  ! 

"  Witlings  may  fport  at  every  truth 

"The  facred  page  contains, 
"  And  academic  fools  difpute 

"  V/ith  mazy,  muddled  brains  ; 

*'  The  word  on  Sinai's  mount  reveal'd 

"  Has  demonftrative  proof, 
«*  Nor  lefs  the  condefcending  grace 

"  Of  a  redeemer's  love." 

An  heavenly  energy  divine, 

Retarded  long  his  mind, 
While  Angels  heard  the  dying  trill 

In  aid  to  truth  defign'd. 

The-mufick  of  the  fphe*res  refounds, 

And  haften'd  his  delay, 

A  cherub 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

A  cherub  lower'd  his  golden  wing 
To  waft  him  on  his  way. 

He  through  a  galaxy  of  light 

By  Newton's  eye  unfeeir, 
Beyond  the  telefcopic  view 

Of  weak  ey'd  mortal  menr 

Treads  o'er  the  pavement  of  the  flues, 

And  looking  down  furveys, 
A  thoufand  tranfits  gliding  through 

The  vaft  etherial  fpace. 

Venus  may  pafs  the  nether  fun, 

And  worlds  revolving  roll  j 
The  great  aflronomer  beholds 

The  author  of  the  whole. 

Huygens's  little  tubes  thrown  by, 

And  Gravefande's  narrow  fcale, 
To  view  the  magnitude  of  plan, 

An  Angel's  opticks  fail. 

Kail  !  bright,  exalted,  happy  foul, 

Difrob'd  of  earth  born  clay, 
Thine  agile  wing  moves  o'er  the  orbs 

Through  feas  of  liquid  day. 

But,  hah  ! — the  literary  world 

Laments  the  recent  blow, 
Befide  the  yew  grown  cover'd  tomb, 

Long — virtue's  tears  will  flow. 

His  kind  perfuaflve  voice  allur'd' 

To  learning's  happy  feat, 
And  truth  and  friendship  both  combin'd 

To  blefs  the  lov'd  retreat, 

fh* 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS,  339 

The  liftening  youth  hung  on  the  lip 

Where  foft  inftruclion  flow'd, 
In  -every  emulative  breaft 

The  thiril  of  knowledge  glow'd. 

Some  at  Apollo's  fhrine  may  bow, 

And  a'ik  another  name, 
To  fill  the  philofophic  chair 

And  reach  a  Winthrop's  fame  ; 

But,  oh  !  thou  great  all  perfeft  fourcc  I 

Of  knowledge,  light,  and  truth, 
Send  in  the  prophet's  flaming  car, 

A  guide  to  Harvard's  youth. 


Z40  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

LINES, 

Written  on  the  anni--uerfary  of  the  death  of  Mr.  C—  —  W—  —  , 
an  amiable  and  accomplijfjed  young  gentleman,  who  died  in 
St.  Lucar,  1785.  His  ref.gnation,  fortitude  ',  and  "piety, 
tuitnej/ed  the  excellence  of  that  religion  which  fuppqrted  him 
with  dignity  and  calmnefs^  and  through  many  months  of  Ian" 
guid  illnefsy  reafon  jujlrfied  to  him  the  hope  of  the  Cbrijlian. 

Oh  !  lend  a  moment  to  a  parent's  grief, 
As  wounded  nature  afks  this  kind  relief  !—  • 


have  I  trod  o'er  life's  moft  brilliant  ftage, 
Read  its  deceptive,  vifionary  page, 
Its  richeft  hope  in  rapture  lifted  high, 
I  now  furvey  with  retrofpective  eye. 

Its  brighteft  boon,  oft  my  tranfported  heart 
In  fancy  hug'd  —  but  time's  infidious  dart 
Check'd  each  fond  wifh  —  relentlefs  fwept  away 
As  tender  foliage  in  a  frofty  day, 
Youth,  vigour,  friendship  ;   and  the  ripening  bloom. 
Of  early  ge-nius,  (hrouds  in  C  -  s's  tomb. 

A  youth  juft  form'd,  as  if  by  heav'n  defign'd 
To  fhew  the  virtues  in  a  youthful  mind  ; 
His  manners  gentle,  and  his  heart  fincere, 
Mild  his  deportment  —  but  to  vice  fevere  ; 
He  aim'd  alone  at  life's  fublimeft  end, 
Rofe  to  the  faint,  and  foften'd  to  the  friend. 
With  manly  grace,  and  piety  ferene, 
Met  the  laft  foe  with  an  unclouded  mein. 

A  burning  heftic's  fecret  fire  betray  'd, 
'Till  yielding  nature  buw'd  his  languid  head  ; 

When 


MISCELLANEOUS  POElvXS,  241 

When  Grangers'  tears  were  fprinkled  o'er  liis  grave, 
From  which  no  tears,  nor  virtue's  felf  could  fave. 
Kind  foreign  hands  have  drefs'd  his  facred  urn, 
While  weeping  friends  in  diftant  climates  moa-rn  j 
No  brother's  foot  the  folemn  dirge  attends, 
Yet  innate  worth  commanded  many  friends  ; 
"The  father  mourns  with  many  a  heartfelt  figh, 
While  to  the  grave  bends  the  maternal  eye  ; 
Her  bufy  mind,  too  curious,  would  inquire, 
Why  was  he  lent — or  why  fo  foon  expire  B 

Is  it  from  life's  beft  joys  my  heart  to  wean  ? 
Or  are  feverer  pangs  behind  the  fcene  ?— 
•Let  me  not  afk — but  humbly  bow  my  will, 
And  own  my  God,  the  God  of  mercy  ftill  ; 
Adore  and  tremble  at  Jehovah's  name, 
Whofe  hand,  omnific,  flill  fupports  my  frame  ; 
-Obey  each  precept  of  his  laws  divine, 
Nor  at  the  darkeft  providence  repine  ; 
Though  itrip'd  of  all  earth  calls  its  choiceft  ftore, 
Yet  if  upheld  by  all  fupporting  power, 
I'll  calmly  walk  on  to  life's  utmoft  verge, 
And,  undifmay'd,  approach  the  boundlefs  marge, 
Of  that  broad  fpace  where  mighty  fyfrems  roll, 
And  radiant  glories  ftrike  the  wondering  foul. 

Then  may  the  youth  whofe  foul  benign  on  eartfi, 
Breath'd  truth  and  fweetnefs  from  his  early  birth, 
Pefcend  a  moment  from  the  realms  above, 
Deputed  thence  a  meflenger  of  love, 
To  aid  my  faith,  and  catch  the  parting  breath, 
And  waft  my  foul  from  the  cold  bed  of  death  j 
Lead  the  glad  fpirit  through  th'  etherial  fea, 
And  ope  the  gates  to  an  eternal  day. 

W  Ta 


*4*  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS, 

To  an  amiable  FRIEND, 
Mourning  the  DEATH   of  an  excellent  FATHER. 

i  jET  deep  dejeflion  hide  her  pallid  face, 
And  from  thy  bread  each  painful  image  rafe  ; 
Forbid  thy  lip  to  utter  one  complaint, 
But  view  the  glories  of  the  rifing  faint, 
Ripe  for  a  crown,  and  waiting  the  reward 
•Of  watching  long  the  vineyard  of  his  Lord,* 

The  generous  purpofe  of  his  zealous  heart, 
Truth  to  enforce,  and  knowledge  to  impart, 
Infures  his  welcome  on  the  unknown  more 
"Where  choirs  of  faints,  and  angel  forms  adore  : 
A  feraph  met  him  on  the  tracklefs  way, 
.And  fining  his  harp  to  join  the  heavenly  lay. 

Complain  no  more  of  Death's  extenfive  power, 
Whofe  fceptre  wafts  us  to  fomeblifsful  more, 
Where  the  rough  billows  that  roll  o'er  the  head, 
That  fliake  the  frame,  and  fill  the  mind  with  dread, 
Are  hufli'd  in  filence,  and  the  foul  fer.ene 
.Looks  back  delighted  on  the  clofmg  fcene. 

Happy,  thrice  happy,  that  exalted  mind, 
Who,  leaving  earth  and  all  its  cares  behind, 
Kas  not,  a  wjfh  to  ruffle  or  control 
The  equal  temper  of  his  tranquil  foul— 
Who,  on  a  retrofpecl,  is  fafe  within, 
JNo  private  pafllon,  nor  a  darling  fin, 
Can  check  his  hope,  when  death's,  infatiate  power 
Stands  hovering  on  the  laft.  decjfive  hour. 

This 

*  The  gentleman  alluded  to>  was  a  clergyman  of  diftinguiihea 
merit. 


.    MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  34 

This  dreaded  tyrant  throws  his  forky  wand, 
And  mows  down  millions  with  rellftlefs  hand  j 
From  his  refearch  no  fceptred  prince  can  hide, 
Though  deck'd  in  all  the  luxury  of  pride. 

Not  all  the  fplendorof  a  Saladin,, 
Not  thofe  who  worfhip  at  Belona's  fhrine, 
Not  Caefar's  triumphs,  or  a  Pompey's  fame, 
Nor  all  the  heroes  of  Rome's  boatted  name, 
Could  once  evade,  though  e'er  fo  wife  or  great, 
The  dreaded  fentence  of  refiftlefs  fate, 
Which  (trips  the  laurel  from  the  good  and  brave^ 
And  ranks  the  monarch  with  the  meaneft  flave. 

Cohorts  of 'old,. and  flaves  of  modern  Rome, 
Promifcuoufly  meet  one  common  doom, 
And  drop  as  leaves  in  the' autumnal  blaft, 
While  adamantine  pens  record  the  paft  ; 
And  every  aftion  ftands  difclos'd  on  high,- 
Infcrib'd  on  columns  fix'd  beyond  the  fky  ; 
Each  virtuous  deed,  and  every  bafe  purfuir, 
That  dignifies  the  man,  or  marks  the  brute. 

Not  feas  of  tears  difarm  the  grizzly  king, 
And  virtue  only  antidotes  his  fling  j 
The  eaflern  monarch,  or  the  Grecian  fage, 
May  bid  defiance  to  death's  wanton  rage, 
If  inward  peace  infures  the  glorious  prize, 
That  crowns  the  victor  at  the  grand  aflize  j 
When  pearls,  nor  gold,  nor  India's  wealth  obtains 
Applaufe  from  him  who  o'er  creation  reigns. 

Then  weep  no  more,  my  friend,  but  all  refign'dr 
Submit  thy  will  to  the  eternal  mind, 

Who 


*44  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS,- 

Who  watches  o'er  the  movements  of  the  juft, 
And  will  again  reanimate  the  duft. 
Thy  fire  commands — fupprefs  the  rifing  figh— 
He  wipes  the  tear  from  thy  too  filial  eye, 
And  bids  thee  contemplate  afoul  fet  free, 
Juft  fafe  efcap'd  from  life's  terapefiuous  fea. 

Could  my  weak  numbers,  or  my  plaintive 
Or  fofteft  fympathy,  relieve  thy  pain, 
My  willing  heart  its  ready  aid  mould  lend 
To  footh  the  forrows  of  my  weeping  friend. 

Let  gratitude— (beft  feeling  of  the  heart) 
Whofe  raptur'd  fmiles  the  higheft  joys  impart, 
Infpire  thy  foul,  and  look  abroad  ferene, 
Survey  all  nature  with  a  placid  mein. 

See  early  fpring  its  fwelling  leaf  expand, 
Or  ripening  harvefts  court  the  reaper's  hand  j 
Autumnal  clutters  pour  their  juices  forth, 
Or  frowning  winter  blacken  all  the  north  ; 
Still  let  content  and  gratitude  appear, 
Through  all  the  changes  of  the  varying  year  ; 
Let  not  a  wayward  thought  thy  peace  moled, 
Or  the  leaft  murmur  e'er  efcape  thy  bread  : 
Look  round,  behold  the  brightened  landfcape  gay. 
The  wavy  poplars  fan  the  verdant  May, 
The  oaken  tops  are  with  the  elm  combin'd, 
To  weave  a  covert  for  the  weary  mind. 

On  every  fide  the  vary'd  fweets-  appear, 
And  fpeak  the  power  that  marks  the  rolling  year  ; 
Pleas'd  with  the  grot,  extinguiih'd  every  care, 
Expand  thy  heart,  and  breathe  a  grateful  prayer, 

That 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS;  245 

That  when  time's  rapid  car  its  coiirfe  has  run 

A  few  more  circuits  round  the  central  fun, 

Thy  friends  and  mine  from  death's  umbrageous  wornb^ 

May  burft  the  manfions  of  the  darkfome  tomb, 

With  us  unite  in  friendfhips  more  fublime, 

And  fmile  on  all  the  ductile  fcenes  of  time, 

FAITH,  reach  thy  hand,  and  lead  us  o'er  the  deep, 
Wliile  fmiling  Hope  forbids  we  here  fhould  weep. 


W 


34*  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

The  GENIUS  of  AMERICA  weeping  the  ab 
furd  FOLLIES  of  the  DAY.' — O&ober  10 
1778. 

"  O  TEMPORA  !    O  MORES  !" 

JD-SNEATH  the  lofty  pine  that  fhades.the  plain^ 
Where  the  blue  mount  o'erlooks  the  wefrern  main, 
I  faw  Columbia's  weeping  Genius  fiand, 
A  blacken'd  fcroli  hung  waving  in  her  hand. 

The  penfive  fair,  in  broken  accents  faid, 
Shall  freedom's  caufe  by  vice  be  thus  betray'd  ?— 
Behold  the  fchedule  that  unfolds  the  crimes 
And  marks  the  manners  of  thefe  modern  times, 
She  figh'd  and  wept — the  folly  of  the  age, 
The  felfifli  paffions,  and  the  mad'ning  rage 
For  pleafure's  foft  debilitating  charms, 
Running  full  riot  in  cold  avarice*  arms  ; 
Who  grafps  the  dregs  of  bafe  opprefTive  gains,. 
While  luxury  in  high  profufion  reigns. 
€>ur  country  bleeds,  and  bleeds  at  every  pore, 
Yet  gold's  the  deity  whom  all  adore  j 
Except  a  few,  whofe  probity  of  ioul 
No  bribe  could  purchafe,  nor  no  fears  control, 
A  chofen  few,  who  dar'd  to  ftem  the  tide 
Of  Britifh  vengeance  in  the  pomp  of  pride, 
When  George's  fleets  with  every  fail  unfuri'd, 
And  by  his  hand  the  reeking  dagger  hurl'd, 
The  fliarpen'd  fteel,  the  angry  furies  held,. 
And  Albion's  offspring  ftrew'd  the  purple  field 
With  kindred  blood,  warm  from  his  brother's  veins? 
The  crimfon  flood  each  field  and  village  ftuins  5 

Yet 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  24 

Yet  back  recoil'd  the  reeking  bloody  hilt, 

And  flaughter'd  millions  mark'd  the  tyrant's  guilt, 

But  'midfl  the  carnage  the  weak  monarch  made, 
Stern  bending  down  his  awful  grandfire's  (hade,, 
Befpoke  the  pupil  of  the  Scotttlh  thane, 
«  Why  fully  thus  the  glories  of  my  reign  ? 
**  The  weftern  world  oft  for  my  houfe  has  bled, 
"  And  Brunfwick's- friends  lie  mingled  with  the  dead1 
"  In  yon  fair  fields- of  glory  and  renown, 
"  Now  independent  of  thy  trembling  crown  ; 
"  The  Inftre  of  thy  diadem  is  fled, 
"  The  brighteft  jewel  that  adorn'd  thy  head;, 
w  America— no  more  fupports  thy  reign, 
**  Nor  freedom  will  forgive  her  martyrs  flain. 

"  As  I  fliot  downacrofs  thf  empurpled  plains* 
"Whole  cities  burn'd,  and  Vulcan  forg'd  new  chains* 
Ci  Yet  dying  patriots  clafp'd  the  darling  fon, 
*•*  And  bid  him  gird  the  warlike  helmet  on. 
"  The  cold  lip  quiver'd  on  the  blood  frain'd  ground, 
*'  The  fpirit  rifing  from  the  ghaftly  wound, 
'<  The  hero  fob'd — the  glorious  work  complete, 
*'  And  Britain's  barbarous  policy  defeat ; 
"  'Tis  lieav'n  commands,  and  freedom  is  the  prize,, 
'*  Adieu,  my  fon — death  fbals  thy  father's  eyes." 

The  ftern  majeftic  form  about  to  rife, 
The  guardian  goddefs  met  him  from  the  fkies  ;• 
"  JTis  juft,  fhe  cry'd — I  urg'd  the  battle  on," 
And,  pointing  down — "  fee,  there  the  trophies  wcn^, 
**  While  they  believ'd  heavVs  uncontrol'd  decree,, 
u  Tliat  virtue  only  made  them  brave  and  free." 

The 


3**"-  MISCELLANEOUS  P03MS.. 

The  trump  of  war  from  fhore  to  more  refounds, 
And  the  ih  rill  echo  o'er  the  vate  rebounds  j 
The  diftant  nations  hear  the  dread  alarm, 
Enkindled  Europe  for  the  conflict  arm  ; 
The  Gallic  powers,  the  weftein  peafants  join,- 
And  diflant  legions  form  in  freedom's  line  j 
America  is  hail'd  from  fea  to  fe?., 
Sits  independent,  glorious,  and  .free  ; 
Propitious  heaven  approv'd,  and  fmil'd  benign,;, 
And  guards  of  angels  aided  her  defign  ; 
While  (till  her  fenate,  vigilant  and  wife, 
Spreads  wide  her  fame,  and  lifts  her  to  the  fkies, 

But  he  who  holds  the  univerfal  chain 
Of  all  events,  his  fyftem  will  maintain  ; 
He  through  the  whole  creation  has  decreed, 
Effecls  muft  follow  as  our  actions  lead  ; 
All  nature  (hews  that  heaven  ne'er  defign'd, 
Spite  of  themfelves,  to  fave  and  blefs  mankind. 
The  friendly  genius  lifted  (low  her  veil, 
And  flill  hid  half  the  melancholy  tale — 
When,  io  !  (he  figh'd,  the  happy  profpeft  dies, 
Guilt  has  provok'd  the  vengeance  of  the  fkies  ; 
As  wealth  pour'd  in  from  every  diftant  fhore, 
The  gaudy  lap  ot  luxury  ran  o'er  ; 
Theblacken'd  paflions  all  at  once  let  loofe, 
And  rampant  crimes  fcarce  afk'd  for  an  excufe. 

So  diflfolute — yet  fo  polite  the  town* 
Like  Hogarth's  days,  the  world's  turn'd  upfide  down  ;  , 
Old  Juvenal,  who  cenfur'd  former  crimes, 
Or  Churchill's  pen,  in  more  fatiric  rhymes^ 
Or  crabbed  Swift,  in  yet  a  rougher  ftiler 
Might  laih  the  vices  of  a  venal  ifle  j 

?f 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

If  fermons,  fatires,  or  the  law  of  heaven, 
(•Though  it  again  from  Sinai's  mount  were  given,} 
Should  all  combine  to  cenfure  modifh  vice, 
It  can't  be  wrong,  when  fafhion  fanclifces. 

Hogarth  might  paint,  and  Churchill  lafli  the  times, 
Compar'd  with  moderns,  modeft  were  their  crimes  £ 
Not  Swift  hlmfelf  could  now  defame  the  age, 
Truth  might  be  told  in  each  farcaftic  page  ; 
Whoe'er  delights  to  mew  mankind  abfurd, 
The  life  in  vogue  may  ample  room  afford.* 

The  early  creed  of  lifping  girls  and  boys, 
Is  tafte,  high  life,  and  pleafure's  guilty  joys  j 
The  modifh  ftile  theheedlefs  parent  taught, 
And  fins  run  rank,  from  levity  of  thought ; 
Ere  the  big  cloud  that  (hook  the  north  retires, 
Each  generous  movement  of  the  foul  expires  j 
All  public  faith,  and  private  juftice  dead, 
And  patriot  zeal  by  patriots  betray'd  ; 
While  hot  bed  plants  of  yefterday  (hoot  up, 
Ere<5l  their  heads,  and  reach  the  cedar's  top. 

Thanklefs  to  heaven,  and  to  the  men  ingrate, 
Who  ventured  all  to  fave  a  finking  ftate  ; 
Who  kept  the  fhatter'd  bark,  and  flood  the  deck, 
When  timid  helmfmen  left  her  as  a  wreck. 
Thofe  godlike  men,  thofe  lovers  of  mankind, 
Have  nought  to  retrofpecT:  that  pains  the  mind  ; 

Placid 

*  This  piece  was  written  when  a  moft  remarkable  depravity  of 
manners  pervaded  the  cities  of  the  United  States,  in  conference  of 
a  ftate  of  war  j  a  relaxation  of  government  j  the  fudden  acquifition 
of  fortune  j  a  depreciating  currency  \  and  a  new  interccuxfe 
with  foreign  uaticas* 


*5»  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

Flacid  they  move  amidft  an  heedlefs  band, 
And  %h  in  filence  o'er  a  guilty  land. 

But  when  old  Time  is  fo  decrepid  grown, 
His  worn  out  car  no  more  will  bear  him  on, 
When  Fame  throws  by  her  faithlefs  tinkling  tube- 
That  carol'd  falfehoods  round  the  lift'ning  globe> 
The  evergreens  on  yonder  ether  plains, 
Eternal  flouriili  to  reward  their  pains. 

Thus  truth  exhibits  virtue  in  an  age, 
When  vice,  unblufhing,  ftalk*d  acrofs  the  flage, 
And  ftar'd  around  with  hideous  prowling  eyesy 
To  catch  the  heedlefs  witling  as  he  flies ; 
The  difputant,  who  enters  on  the  lift, 
To  foil  a  Newton,  or  to  win  at  whift. 
He  lives  a  fceptic,  if  you  take  his  word, 
Thinks  'tis  heroic  to  deny  his  God, 
Or  to  difpute  his  providential  care, 
Deride  his  precepts,  or  to  feoff  at  prayer. 
His  coat,  his  creed,  his  faith  and  genius  too, 
Are  modernized  as  fafhion  forms  the  cue  ; 
Prompt  and  alert,  with  erudition  fraught, 
Than  Locke,  or  Boyle,  in  ethics  better  taught  ;. 
He  fwears  the  tafte  the  ban  ton  of  the  times, 
By  moralifts  can  ne'er  be  conftru'd  crimes  ; 
Moft  modern  writers  are  much  better  bred, 
Voltaire  and  Hoyle,  the  authors  he  has  read, 
Difcard  fuch  antique,  odd  ideas  of  truth, 
Such  mufty  rules  for  regulating  youth. 

Lord  Bolingbroke,  among  the  wits  a  toaft, 
And  Mandeville,  the  fceptic's  empty  boaft, 
Keafon  fo  clear,  that  e'en  their  pigmy  race 
Who  {warm  and  clutter  in  each  public  place, 

Wltli; 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

V/ith  fcientific  brow  can  demonftrate, 
Whate'er  the  pious  fage  or  prieit  may  prate, 
Virtue  is  an  enthufiaftic  dream, 
Reveal'd  religion,  a  long  worn  out  theme. 

At  bacchanalian  feafts,  it  is  the  mode 
To  pour  libations  to  the  red  ey'd  God, 
'Till  penetration  fo  out  runs  his  fenfe, 
That  the  arcana  of  omnipotence, 
Brought  to  the  reas'ner's  fuperfkial  teft, 
The  Chriflian  code  becomes  his  wanton  jeft* 
Scarce  any  decent  principles  remain,, 
A  fool's  cap,  perch 'd  on  folly's  feather'd 
Is  the  learn'd  fignal  for  the  warm  debate 
On  Voltaire's  creed — or  the  decrees  of  fate  ; 
'Till  graceful  *     *  fo  improves  the  plan, 
The  deift  bluflies  at  his  bolder  ftrain  ; 
His  flowing  ftile,  and  eafy  periods  fuch. 
His  influence  links,  becaufe  he  doubts  too  mucJt, 
This  fmooth  romantic  bard,  from  eaft  to  weft, 
Has  conjur'd  up  each  fceptical  proteft 
'Gainfl  alk  religion — ev'n  th^e  moft -fublime, 
Oz~al  or  wrote — of  late  or  modern  time. 
All  hope  renounced  of  an  immortal  ftatc^ 
By  rote  his  pupils  fyllogifms  prate-^- 
Annibilation  difllpates  all  fear, 
We  can  but  fuffer — and  enjoy  while  here. 

As~  ignis  fafuus  floats  from  lake  to  bog, 
The  vapor  plays  in  pefliientiaifog, 
Sparkles  and  finks  in  the  dark  marfliy  tomb, 
As  modern  wits  in  metaphyfic  fume. 

Yet  they  afflrme  a  felf  important  aifj 
Or  to  confound,  or  profelyte  the  fair, 


£53  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

Who  no  ideas  have  of  other  heaven, 
If  drefj>,  parade,  and  a  gallant  is  given  j 
Who  rail  aloud  'gainfl  puritanic  rules, 
-And  learn  their  morals  in  deiftic  fchools  ; 
Who  prattle  nonfenfe  with  the  half  fiedg'd  beau* 
Can  cog  the  die,  and  raffle  high  or  low  ; 
In  folly's  lap,  by  chlldifh  paflions  tofs'd. 
On  vanity's  delufive  fhallo\v  coaft  ; 
The  rippling  furface  hides  the  deep  abyfs, 
That  gapes  deftru&ion,  while  the  hydra's  hifs, 
^Unheard  as  pleafure's  fafcinating  fong, 
In  gales  perfum'd,  the  trifiers  hurl  along. 
While  wide  fpread  ruin  ftalks  from  door  to  door? 
Famine  and  fword  Mill  threat'ning  to  devour^ 
How  many  dance  on  diflipation's  wing, 
.No  pen  can  paint,  nor  can  the  poet  Hng. 

Profoundly  learn'd,  investigating  truth, 
And  thus  thrown  off  the  fliackles  of  his  youth, 
He's  wifeft  fure  who  makes  the  moft  of  life, 
Prefers  a  miftrefs  to  a  fober  wife  ; 
The  coxcomb  laughs,  and  revels  life  away, 
While  gaming  high's  the  bufinefs  of  the  day  $ 
Pleafure  ftiall  dance  in  every  feftive  bowl, 
The  Brute' f  fecure— the  Man  has  not  a  foul. 


